Titanic: The Legend Lives On
by Pokemistress
Summary: A retelling of the infamously bad Italian animated movie. A diverse group of individuals - human and animal alike - gather on the ship of dreams for a maiden voyage of romance and horror. Read intro for more info.
1. Chapter 1

Greetings and salutations! I shall begin my fanfic in just a moment, but first a few words of explanation (if you don't care, just skip ^^).

I was inspired for this by the animated movie _Titanic: The Legend Continues_, also known as _Titanic: The Legend Lives On_, _Titanic: The Animated Movie_, _Titanic: The Animated Musical_, or "That piece of *!^" (some of those names are more official than others). Made by an Italian director, this animated movie tells the "real" story of the Titanic - including a Cinderella rip-off romance (complete with bird and mice friends), a group of bumbling jewel thieves, a rapping dog, and three Mexican mice (no, I swear I'm not making any of this up).

Somehow, as I lay in bed trying to sleep, I hit upon the idea of rewriting the movie in story form in my own image (maybe proof that I should stop coming up with ideas. Or trying to sleep). And thus I've decided to go through with it.

A running joke with _Titanic: The Animated Movie_ is that virtually all of the characters are rip-offs, drawing-wise - of many famous Disney and Don Bluth characters. It was an IMDb reviewer who referred to the characters with their more famous counterpoints' names which inspired me to do this project actually. So thank (or chase after) him/her.

* * *

_She was a ship of dreams, awe inspiring and beautiful. No one could look at her without feeling hope and romance. She was said to be unsinkable…but in one fateful voyage thousands of lives would be altered forever…_

* * *

The trees were no more than green blurs, splotched against the blue of the coastline as the train merrily traveled its course. Inside the compartment, children were bored and chased each other down the aisles. Their parents, weary from the hours sitting, shouted for them to be still just a little longer, there wasn't much more to the journey.

Anastasia sat still and quiet in her seat, but then she was used to doing that. Ever since she was a small child, all she could remember hearing was "Anastasia you disobedient girl! Stop wiggling and be quiet!" It had gotten that, if need be, she could stay as still and quiet as a painted statue, her eyes closed and her hands folded neatly on her lap.

Now, she did move, just enough to reach into her tiny traveling bag. There were few possessions inside. Expertly, she pushed aside two working dresses, her sewing kit, and other bits and pieces until her fingers brushed the sharp corner of a small box. She pulled it out and opened it.

Inside, a beautiful locket gleamed. It was the most beautiful and valuable thing she owned. Lacquered with blue gems and a fine gold chain, it could have sold for enough for Anastasia to set out into the world on her own. But she would never part with it. Because there was something inside which she valued even more. Inside was a picture of her mother.

Anastasia expertly opened the locket with her thumbnail and gazed at the picture. The woman was in her thirties, with long hair and a kind look on her face. The color of her eyes, her hair, or dress was impossible to determine as the portrait was black and white. Anastasia gazed longingly at the portrait. What was her mother's name? Who was her father? Why did they leave her so many years ago? Would she ever find them again?

"Anastasia, stop moping over that silly locket!"

Anastasia looked up. "Yes mother," she whispered out of habit. Lady Gertrude Tremaine was certainly not her mother and had absolutely no intention of being mistaken for it. Still, a cruel pretend-mother was better than none at all. Anastasia was nineteen and had lived for eighteen years with her foster family. Lady Tremaine had once been the rich daughter of an aristocrat, sought by many men. Lord Tremaine was the chosen one, however he died only a few years prior from a gunshot to his head. Some said that he had amassed a good many gambling debts (very scandalous) and was shot by one of the many he owed money to. Others shook their heads and said that being married to Gertrude was far more than such a hedonistic man could stand. Certainly his wife was domineering Anastasia doubted very much that she would stand for such frivolous and embarrassing behavior. At any rate, he left his wife with what little remained of his fortune, two daughters, and a bitter outlook on life.

The daughters were Hortense and Bernice, Anastasia's foster sisters. They fancied themselves to be lovely and sweet-tempered - a view which their mother tried to reinforce - however nothing could be farther from the truth. Certainly the girls had the potential to be quite pretty, but it was all lost under the vast amounts of cosmetics that plastered over their faces and the ridiculous "fashionable" dresses and hats they had "just imported from London". They also might have been sweet-tempered once upon a time, however that too was lost. Years of indulgence from their mother and always having their ways taught them only to be ill-tempered shrews and bullies, unsatisfied with anything. Between them and their mother, Anastasia often found herself frustrated and at the end of her own - vast - patience.

For almost the entirety of the trip, the sisters had been lectured by their mother on the purpose of the journey - marriage. "Remember," she reminded them ceaselessly, "The purpose of this voyage is _husbands_, wealthy and handsome."

Now it appeared that they were bored and the Lady Tremaine had fallen back on her favorite past time, mocking Anastasia's devotion to her mother.

"You stupid girl," she continued. "Your mother abandoned you when you were a baby. You'll never see her again."

"You'll never see her again!" cackled Bernice. Hortense laughed like a wild animal, causing several other passengers to look about in concern.

Anastasia sighed and gently set her locket back into the box. Possibly the only reason her foster mother hadn't taken it from her was because she enjoyed laughing whenever Anastasia looked at it. The girl was sure her foster family had fallen asleep when she took it out this time, but she must have been mistaken. She put the box back in her bag, too depressed to bother to shove it to the bottom even. She stared sadly out the window. For almost all of her life, she had be forced to live in England's strict classes, under her foster family's tyranny. But all that would change soon. In a few day's time, they would all be in America. A country where anything may happen. Perhaps there she would meet the love of her life. Perhaps there she might even find her mother…

* * *

The train came to a grinding halt and the four stepped off. Weighed down by her and the rest of her foster family's luggage, it was nearly impossible for Anastasia to enjoy the sights and sounds as they headed for the docks. Still, the ocean breeze was wonderful and the smell of the sea filled her nose with each breath.

Anastasia felt something furry brush her ankles and she nearly screamed. "Azreal!" she cried. "Don't do that!"

"Hurry up Anastasia," called Lady Tremaine as the sisters laughed. Even Azreal, the Tremaine's fat orange cat seemed to snicker as he bounded to catch up with his equally - odious mistresses.

As the docks came into sight, Anastasia saw it for the first time. It was the biggest and most luxurious thing she had ever seen in her lifetime. And it would take her to America. The H.M.S. Titanic. The unsinkable ship, the ship of dreams.


	2. Chapter 2

The tires squealed and for such a tiny car, it certainly made quite a bit of noise. People and animals like leapt to the sidewalk and wondered if the driver was deranged. He certainly seemed to be, but if you asked him there was only one force in the world which was more crazy, more insanely frightening and dangerous. His boss. And she was sitting in the backseat with his associate.

The driver hit the brakes as hard as he could, narrowly avoiding overshooting and driving off the harbor into the water. He was able to save them from a sudden swim, but flew forward into the steering wheel, nearly breaking his nose in the process.

"Jasper! What the devil are you doing? I told you to drive us to the ship, not kill us!"

The driver cringed at the sound of the female voice screeching from the backseat. "Sorry about that ma'am!" he called back. "We've arrived."

"So I see," she snarled. "Horace, open the door. My legs are cramping and poor Tiger needs a breath of fresh air."

A second later, the backseat door burst open and the associate fell out onto the ground. Unlike Jasper, who was tall and lean, Horace was short and stout and it was for that reason that the boss kept him backseat with her when they traveled. A second after he hit the ground, a high heeled shoe came out and ground itself into his back as he gave a gasp of pain. Shortly after, the shoe was followed by the rest of their boss as she stepped down to the ground from her favorite footstep.

Cruella D'Ville swept her black and white-streaked hair from her eyes and surveyed the scene with distasteful joy. "Look at this tub. Stuff to the brim with wealthy idiots just desperate to try out the 'Ship of Dreams'. _Titanic_, huh?" She turned to her assistants. "There's gonna be plenty her to keep us busy boys. Shake a leg, get the luggage." She laughed evilly and turned to board the ship. "Tiger! Come on baby, Mommy's got a job to do!"

A pathetic black Chihuahua crawled out from under the driver's seat where it had taken refuge during the perilous trip, partly for safety and partly because there wasn't room for it anywhere else. It stumbled out, disoriented and blinking rapidly in the sunlight. After several breaths however it seemed to recover and its confused expression melted into one of arrogance, surprisingly like the one its mistress often wore. Perhaps it was Cruella who grew to look like her dog or perhaps having a dog that looked like her appealed to her narcissistic side. How it got the name "Tiger" was anyone's guess. Jasper and Horace secretly thought that Cruella actually had set out to purchase a cat but couldn't find one to suit her strange tastes, forcing her to settle for the pedigree pooch.

Jasper struggled with the driver's door before deciding that it just was not going to open. Perhaps the latch broke when he crashed during their last getaway. With a sigh, he rolled down the window and slipped outside. He glanced down at Horace, who was able to sit up and now testing to see how well his knees worked.

"Why do you put up with her?" Jasper asked curiously.

"Why do _you_?" Horace retorted, able to get up at least without falling.

"I don't know," sighed Jasper as the pair took the luggage and stumbled to the ship.

"Well me neither," said Horace, hobbling after his associate.

* * *

If you were to ask the longest-employed sailor to work at the docks, he would tell you that never before had things been so busy. Dogs barked, children shrieked with laughter, and sailors shouted orders to one another. Passengers boarded, searched for friends and family, and tried to locate their luggage.

There was a crowd of people on the stairs to enter the _Titanic_ and among them were the Tremaines, in a worse mood than usual because of the wait.

"Mummy, I want to go in _now_!" cried Hortense. "We've been waiting for _hours_."

"Waiting for hours!" Bernice whined in agreement. For whatever reason, it seemed that neither of the girls ever had original thoughts at the same time. Almost always, it was one who stated the original thought and the other who repeated it. Perhaps it proved the theory that simple minds think alike.

"Hush now my pets," said Lady Tremaine. She was far too well-bred to whine like her daughters, but she too was displeased with the crowd. She decided to let her let out her anger at the closest and most opportune target. "Anastasia! Careful with the luggage now! And where's Azreal?"

Poor Anastasia had her arms full with the luggage and with all of the other cats running amok, finding one specific cat would be nearly impossible, even if it were an orange, striped, and exceptionally fat one.

Fortunately, Azreal had grown to develop tastes quite similar to his owners and found tormenting Anastasia to be just as much fun as they did. From his nearby hiding place, he darted out brushed past her ankles.

"Azreal! Stop that!' cried Anastasia.

"Anastasia, it's time!" called Lady Tremaine as the crowd began to move forward. "Bring the luggage and Azreal now!"

"Yes, I'm com - ah!"

As Anastasia tried to step forward, she stumbled over Azreal. As she tried to regain her balance, she fell sideways into a young blonde man. Her grip on the luggage was lost and it all fell to the ground.

"Idiot girl!" shouted Lady Tremaine as Hortense and Berniece shrieked with laughter. Azreal cackled as well and darted up the stairs, past his mistresses and onto the ship.

"I'm sorry," whispered Anastasia and quickly began gathering the luggage. Hortense's bag, Bernice's, Lady Tremaine's, her's…

"I'm sorry, does this belong to you?"

Anastasia looked up, surprised by the voice. Standing next to her was the young man she fell into. In his hand was the box she kept her locket in. She found herself blushing with embarrassment. "Oh yes…I mean, I'm very sorry I fell into you like that."

The young man chuckled. "Think nothing of it," he said kindly. "It's hardly the first time someone's bumped into me in a crowd like this, though I've never been bumped by such a charming lady before."

She was blushing again, but suspected that it was for a different reason. "I'm no lady," she said quickly "I'm just...me". She shoved the box into her bag and stood up so suddenly that she nearly dropped all the luggage again. What was wrong with her? "Thank you for returning my box. I must board now."

"Oh dear, your family seems to have already boarded," murmured the man, looking genuinely concerned. "Will you be able to find them again?"

"No. I mean yes. I mean, we're not…never mind," said Anastasia quickly. "Goodbye!" And with that, she ran onto the _Titanic_ as quickly as she could while carrying all of the luggage.

The young man stared curiously after her - such a strange girl - but was dragged from his thoughts at the sound of a girl calling out. "Ernest! Get down from there!" she cried. The man could see the girl was about seven. Her brother Ernest, no older than four or five, was busily climbing onto the handrail of the stairs and ignoring his sister.

"Here now, there's enough of that," said the man, pulling Ernest off.

"Thank you sir!" said the girl. "The little nitwit never listens."

"It's quite alright," said the man with a smile. "You're traveling on the _Titanic _as well?"

"Mhm!" said the girl looking pleased. "Mummy and Daddy left for America years ago. Now they've saved enough for us and Granny to come also!"

"Catherine!" An elderly woman's voice cut through the sounds of the crowd.

"Ah, that's Granny," said the girl. "Come now Ernest!"

The man smiled as he watched Catherine lead Ernest away, before he remembered that he too had to board. He scanned the crowd carefully before finding his companion. Though she was only in her forties, a hard life had left her with graying hair and a lined face. He saw that she was carrying all of the luggage and he ran to help her.

"Nanny, I told you I would get this," he scolded gently.

"That's quite alright Master William," she said. "I'm perfectly capable."

"As am I." He managed to take the luggage from her and smiled. "Remember, you're on vacation like the rest of us."

There was never a moment in his life when William could recall being without Nanny. She had raised him since infancy. Now he was too old for a nanny but never sent her away. He knew that she was alone in the world. She had always been there to care for him. Now he cared for her.

"We'd better board soon," Will muttered, noting the crowded stairway to the ship.

"Where is that secretary of yours?" Nanny asked. "I haven't seen him around. He is coming, isn't he?"

"Yes of course," sighed William. Gaston was quite capable as an assistant - when he was around. The man was quite hedonistic however and thought nothing of wandering off to pursue some newfound pleasure. "He was with me when we got here," Will added, glancing through the crowd. "Now where would he…"

"Ah, Master William!" came a heavy French accent unexpectedly from behind.

Will jumped. "There you are Gaston," he said, waiting for his heart to stop pounding. "Where the blazes were you? It's time to board!"

"I waz never far sir," said Gaston. "Ah could zee you every minute. Like when zat beautiful young lady fell right into your arms. Romantic, no?"

"She tripped and fell against me," sighed William. "It was an accident."

"It looked like destiny to me," Gaston replied with a shrug. "But now, we must board you zay?"

"Yes. Take some luggage."

"Ah, but of course."Gaston took the two lightest bags there were and followed his master and Nanny to the ship. He had not gone two steps before a glint caught his eye.

"Is everything alright back there Gaston?" called William, noticing his secretary standing up awkwardly.

"Ah, oui, oui, yes of course," he quickly called. He shoved his newest find into his pocket. What a prize! He would think about what to do with it when they had boarded.

It was a lacquered locket, with blue gems and a fine gold chain.

* * *

As the humans boarded the _Titanic_, a second group of passengers were climbing on as well. They had not bought tickets and they took up relatively little room. They needed no formal lodgings and had no class systems.

They were the animals.

"Fivel, shake a leg already," Mr. Mouskewitz called over his shoulder. His son was trailing a good half an inch (to a mouse, an inch would be look a foot), his sack of possessions weighing him down.

"Heinrich, why you let him bring all of his toys is a complete puzzle to me," Mrs. Mouskewitz complained as the hurried along.

"Quit kvetchin' Gretchen. He promised to carry them himself," her husband replied gruffly.

The three mice knew of course where their entrance to the _Titanic_ was. No one expected them to sneak in the human way like thieves. Instead, a secret passage was constructed which led directly to the bottom of the ship, where the cargo was held and they would stay for the entire journey.

"What on earth do you have in there boy?" Mr. Mouskewitz asked irritably as they finally reached the entrance.

"Things that might be useful to me on the journey," Fivel panted. At last, he too made it in.

The Mouskewitz family was hardly the only animals boarding. Shortly after, they were followed by three geese in bonnets, who chattered wildly.

"Come now, hurry along," called the black Scotty dog who was overseeing all animals boarding. "There are others waiting to get on."

"Oh yes of course," said one of the geese. "I was just saying to Abigail the other day…"

"No you weren't dear," said Abigail. "It was _Amelia_ who told you…"

"Quite right," agreed Amelia."Just board," growled the Scotty and the geese moved along, followed shortly after by a squirrel, a traveling salesman sewer rat from Paris, and a large squirrel.

A black and white magpie flew down almost noiselessly behind the squirrel. Just before passing him, the magpie noticed a gleaming hatpin in the squirrel's hat. Carefully, the magpie leaned forward and pulled the hatpin out without making a sound. All worked perfectly until the squirrel thought to feel his hat before boarding.

"Give it back!" he told the magpie.

"I don't know what you're talking about," said the magpie innocently.

"Listen pal, I just want to get back to the Appalachians peaceably. That doesn't include getting' robbed. Now give it back or - "

"Or what furball?" asked the magpie. It was a peculiar viewpoint of his, once he had stolen something he saw it has his own property.

"Come now, break it up!" barked the Scotty. "You there, magpie. What is your name?"

"Hector."

"Well Hector, give back whatever you took."

"I won't," said Hector stubbornly. "It's mine!"

"Forget it," snapped the squirrel impatiently. With a glare at Hector, he bounded past and into the ship.

Hector tried to follow but was blocked by the Scotty. "Listen here," said the dog severely. "My name is Fritz and I am in charge of the animals on this ship. Therefore, I must insist that you curb your sticky beak. Break the habit if only for this voyage."

"No problem," said Hector. "Can I get on now?"

"I believe you're all that's left," said Fritz with a nod. "The Spaniel, Dalmatians, Chihuahua, and cat are all on board. No, after you there's just one left."

"Yeah? Who's that?" asked Hector curiously.

"The Rapido Raton Band," replied Fritz. "I believe that's them now."

"So I see," said Hector, taking in the three mice approaching. They were obviously in show business, with guitars strapped on their shoulders and large sombreros almost completely obscuring their faces. The fattest one carried a set of drums under his arm.

"Hola señor. This ees the _Titanic_, yes?" asked the leader.

"It is," said Fritz. "And you are the band I presume?"

"Oh si señor," the mouse replied. "I am Gonzales, with my cousin Rodriguez and Pedro. We were just on tour and now cannot wait to get home to Me-hi-co."

"Well all aboard then," said Fritz. "The ship will be setting sail any minute, whether we're on or not. Best hurry."

And with that, he turned and trotted inside the ship. With cries of "¡Ándale! ¡Ándale! ¡Arriba! ¡Arriba!" the mouse band followed after leaving Hector to bring up the rear.

* * *

"Hold it! Hold it please!"

The shout took the Captain by surprise, however he signaled for the sailor to reopen the door. It seems that someone was a bit late. Perhaps they overslept.

The door swung in causing the man behind it to nearly fall over. Apparently he came at the door at a run with the intent of ramming the closed door with his shoulder and the door was opened just before the anticipated collision.

"Ticket?" asked the Captain, trying his hardest not to laugh.

"Ah, yes," said the man, rooting through his pockets. "Here it is."

"You just made it I see," the Captain commented mildly as he inspected the ticket. That was in order at least.

"Ah now that was a part of my plan," said the man cunningly. "You see, I'm no ordinary passenger. Detective Sam Bradbury to my friends, a threat to my enemies, you can call me Sam." And he pulled out a large pipe, not unlike the one smoked by Sherlock Holmes, and began to puff away.

"I see," said the Captain, hoping his confusion wasn't showing too much on his face. "And you are here because?"

Sam glanced around the room and leaned towards the Captain, dropping his voice. "Sir," he whispered dramatically, "I have reason to believe that there is a notorious ring of jewel thieves hidden away on this ship!"

The Captain gasped. "Who? I must warn the passengers!"

"Oh no sir," Sam insisted. "You see, I've been tailing them for years. This very well be my best chance to trap 'em. They're stuck, you see? They can't exactly run away on a ship in the middle of the ocean. Even if they do strike, the suspects are limited and with my superior detective skills, I will certainly catch them and have them in jail the instant we set foot in America!"

The Captain tried not to cough from the vast amount of thick, smelly smoke gushing from Sam's pipe. He wondered if it was part of the detective's disguise, surrounding himself with a cloud of noxious fumes. He also wondered if he could fan the smoke from his face without offending Sam. "Shall…shall I show you to your quarters then?" he asked the detective, chocking back the coughs.

* * *

"Ready the starboard!"

"Set out slowly now!"

"We're off lads!"

Ropes were untied and gangplanks were removed. Coal was shoveled into the furnaces.

The passengers gathered on the deck to wave and shout their goodbyes. At the docks, friends, family, and sightseers called out and waved. Cheers were cried. There was laughing and crying. All watched in amazement as the magnificent ship finally set sail on her maiden voyage.


	3. Chapter 3

Third class really wasn't such a bad way to travel. In fact, for Anastasia it was quite nice. She knew things would be a bit crowded after her room mates arrived, but in the meantime she took advantage of the room to unpack. When she took out the box, her heart froze. There was some subtle change, maybe the slightest change in weight or minute change in texture. She opened it and gasped. Her locket was gone.

Her mind raced. Where could it have gone? She only just saw it on the train. Then it was safely in her bag. The entire time… Then she remembered on the docks. The bags fell. The box fell out. That young man had handed it back. And she never checked it before shoving it inside. That must have been it! That was when the locket was lost!

Did that man take it? Anastasia found it very difficult to believe that such a kind person would do something like that, but she knew looks could not always be trusted. Did the locket fall out of the box before he handed it back? If that were so, it was still lying on the ground at the harbor! And the ship had already set sail. There was no possible way for her to go and look for it. Her only hope to recover it was if the man _did_ have it. And if he would give it back. Her locket…her only connection to her mother. Warm tears fell from Anastasia's eyes as she sat desolately on her bunk.

There was a soft knock at the door. "Come in," called Anastasia, willing herself calm and wiping her eyes.

The door opened slowly and in came a sweet-looking lady, white hair piled on her head and two young children at tow. "Hello my dear," said the lady pleasantly. "You're our bunkmate I take it?"

"Yes," said Anastasia. "Anastasia Pickering."

"You can call me Grandma Victoria or Granny if you like," said the woman warmly. "These are my grandchildren, Ernest and Catherine."

She indicated to two young children, who shyly glanced at Anastasia. Catherine managed a quick "Hello". Ernest darted behind his grandmother to hide.

Anastasia smiled. "It's wonderful to meet you all," she said. "I always love company when I travel."

"I'm sure we'll get along splendidly," Victoria agreed. "Now who in the world could that be?"

Yet another person was knocking on the door.

"I don't think there should be any more people booked to this room…" said Anastasia, going to answer it.

Much to her surprise, she found herself face-to-face with a comically stout man. "Miss Pickering?" he asked. "Your guardian wishes to see you in her room. You know the way to first class I presume?"

"Yes," said Anastasia. Now what was wrong? "I'll be right there."

* * *

"You clumsy girl, look at what you did to our clothes!"

Anastasia cringed as her foster mother and sisters glared furiously at her. "I took care when I packed them," she said softly.

"Impudent girl!" said Lady Tremaine. "Are you contradicting me? It must have happened when you were a clumsy lout and dropped our luggage at the docks. Look at Bernice's dress! It's even got a rip in it!"

Anastasia glanced at the skirt of the dress, still half-in the suitcase. "It looks like it was caught on the latch," she commented.

"What did you say?" asked Lady Tremaine dangerously.

"I said I'd sew it right away," sighed Anastasia.

"That's what I thought you said." Lady Tremaine smiled, smug as a cat. " Take the rest of our clothes for washing and ironing as well. We want to look our best for the reception."

Hortense and Bernice looked at one another and grinned wickedly. Anastasia knew why. She had no fancy dresses or jewels like they did. There was nothing suitable for her to wear to the _Titanic_ reception the next night unless one of them loaned her something. Of course they never would, but they did not stop hoping that Anastasia would dare ask, giving them an excuse to further mock her. Anastasia was too clever for that though, and determined not to give them the satisfaction. When she remained silent, Bernice took a tea cup in her hand. Without taking her eyes off of Anastasia, she deliberately dropped the cup to the floor, where it smashed into tiny pieces.

"Pick up that broken china," said Lady Tremaine dismissively.

"Yes ma'am," said Anastasia, bending down. That was all her life was. Kneeling before her foster family, picking up their broken pieces, and cleaning their messes day after day with no escape in sight.

* * *

As the humans unpacked in their rooms up above, the animals were getting settled in their own quarters.

"Just think," Mrs. Mouskewitz sighed. "A few days time and we will finally be in America!"

"Is it true that there are no cats in America and the streets are made of cheese?" asked Fivel eagerly.

"Maybe," said Mr. Mouskewitz, smiling at his son. "At least there will be a new life ahead of us."

Spirits high, Fivel leaned into his bag to make sure all of his toys were still there. Not that there was reason for concern, it was merely a childish compulsion. He was still inside the sack when he heard his mother scream and his father shout "Fivel! LOOK OUT!"

Fivel looked up just in time to see a large orange cat leap at him. He screamed and ran as fast as he could.

"Dinner time!" shouted Azreal, not far behind. The cat gave a nasty chuckle and batted at the mouse with his paw.

A ventilation shaft was up ahead and Fivel aimed for it. He knew that if he could get in and squeeze through the gratings into someone's room, the stupid cat couldn't follow him. Somewhere behind, he heard the sound of barking and of the cat hissing, but he didn't pause. He slipped quickly into shaft and ran for the nearest grate.

* * *

"Are you alright dear? Do you need any help with that?" asked Victoria kindly.

Anastasia had returned from her visit with Lady Tremaine, carrying a large wicker basket filled with an assortment of dresses and clothing, including Bernice's dress to be sewn. Anastasia had meant to start on it as soon as she returned to the room, but the loss of the locket still weighed heavily on her mind. She tried not to think about it. All it would lead to would be the overwhelming desire to cry. That was the last thing she wanted to do in front of the kind Victoria and her grandchildren.

"No," she whispered. "No, it's quite alright. I am used to work like this."

"Are those your mother's things?" Victoria asked.

"My foster mother's. And foster sisters'".

"If you don't mind my asking," said Victoria peering over her glasses, "if your foster family is in a first-class room, why are you in third?"

Anastasia opened her mouth to reply, but she had no words. What could she say? But her silence seemed to tell all and Victoria looked at her sympathetically.

"It's hard being on your own," she said. "I remember when my son and his wife left for America all those years ago. Now we're finally able to rejoin them."

"That sounds lovely," said Anastasia. "I've learned to deal with my foster family though. I'm so upset because I've lost my locket."

"Is it a pretty locket?" asked Catherine.

"Very. But it's not the locket itself that I valued. It was what was inside. In it was a picture of my real mother. I haven't seen her since I was a baby, so it was my only way to remember her."

"I haven't seen my Mama or Papa for a long time either," put in Ernest shyly.

"I'm sure the locket will turn up dear," said Victoria.

"I certainly hope so," said Anastasia. She fell quiet, wondering where the locket was and where her mother was.

"Look grandma, a mouse!" called Ernest, breaking the silence.

"Shush dear, we're talking," said Victoria patiently.

"But there really is a mouse," he insisted.

"There is!" cried Catherine, pointing. "There it is, in the vent. It's hanging by its tail!"

* * *

Fivel was in a strange predicament. The first grate he came to led straight to Anastasia, Victoria, and the grandchildren's room. He dared not enter of course (his mother direly warned him about the dangers of humans), but he also dared not turn back, certain that he would be eaten by Azreal if he did. So he did the only thing that he could think of: He perched between two bars in the grate, hoping that no one would notice him until it was safe to go back. When Ernest spotted him and called out, Fivel was so surprised that he fell through the grate. He would have gone straight to the floor (and a sudden, rather nasty end), except that - in a burst of quick thinking - he grabbed at one of the bars on the grate with his tail, which saved him from the fall but left him hanging for all to see. He waited anxiously. Would they throw him overboard? Or feed him to that cat?

The pretty redheaded girl who was so sad before smiled at him. "Hello, what are you doing up there?" she asked sweetly. She stood up and walked towards him. He shivered but she just held out her hand for him to climb onto. His tail was aching and he had no choice but to accept. "Would you like something to eat?" she asked when he was sitting on her palm. "I have a little bread I saved from the train ride".

"Let me see!" the little boy said as the redheaded girl rummaged one-handed through her bag.

"Ernest, behave," the old lady warned. "That mouse is a little darling, isn't he?"

"Here you go," the girl said, handing Fivel a small piece of the crust of bread. He eagerly took it in his paws and she giggled.

"Let me see him Anastasia!" Ernest pleaded.

"Granny said to behave," his sister reminded him.

"You're not the boss of me Catherine!"

"Time to go home now," said Anastasia. She carefully reached up and set Fivel back inside the grate. He smiled and scurried back down the vent, nibbling the bread along the way. The cat was surely gone by now and he had something he wanted to talk to his parents about.

* * *

"You go first."

"No, you go first."

"No, I insist."

"One of the two of you had better go," snarled Cruella as Jasper and Horace stood blocking the doorway to her room.

"Fine, I'll go first," the two men said in unison. At the exact same time, both moved to exit the room. Both tried to go through the doorway at the exact same time. As a result, both became jammed in the doorframe, owing mostly to Horace's bulk.

Cruella snorted. Served her right for training two lumbering oafs with hands like hams. The idiots always messed up in some way. She pushed back the sleeves on her black dress and fur wrap she was wearing and shoved them in the backs as hard as she could. With a crash, both of them fell to the floor. "You take the cabins at the far end," she sighed. "I'll take the ones at the middle. Don't you _dare_ come back empty-handed".

"Right," said the two, running off.

"This should be easy. We're professionals," said Horace, as they approached the first cabin.

The door was locked, so he pulled out the pocket knife he always carried for such an occasion. He jammed it into the lock and began to wiggle it. Nothing happened. He tried again, shaking the door knob.

"Professionals who can't pick a lock?" asked Jasper sarcastically.

"You try it then," said Horace offering the knife to Jasper. "Have a go if you're so clev - mph!"

Jasper had suddenly covered his partner's hand with his mouth. "Stay quiet a minute and act natural," he whispered. "Someone's coming out here."

Sure enough, a door about three cabins down and across the hall was opening. Horace and Jasper leaned against the wall in what they hoped was a nonchalant manner, trying for all the world to look like anything but jewel thieves. Then they saw who was leaving.

She was a portly woman with a cheerful face, but it wasn't her body the two were staring at. Glittering at her neck, wrists, and fingers were the most beautiful pieces of jewelry they had ever laid eyes on.

"Jackpot, Jasper me old mat," whispered Horace.

The two grinned at each other and went to step forward, perhaps get a better look by passing her. A second later, they both fell to the ground with a crash. Something - and a closer look revealed it was a dog's leash - had been wrapped around their ankles, tripping them. Jasper turned back in disgust, to find himself nose to nose with a Cocker Spaniel which looked decidedly not amused.

"Flopsy, what on earth are you up to?" called the bejeweled woman in a strong Southern accent. "C'mon sugar, let's leave those men alone."

As she turned the corner to go up to the deck, the two thieves could hear her say to the dog, "Didn't I say to wait for me first? Look at the clothes they were wearing! Those two were clearly bums."


	4. Chapter 4

The waves hit the boat in a hypnotic pattern, coming in and going out, and Nanny stared out the porthole at it. Her thoughts though were a million miles away. Many years ago, she had lost something of hers, the most valuable thing she had. And while she had spent so long searching for it, she never found it again. That was when, heartbroken, she accepted the job as William's nanny. But the memories lived on inside of her. Memories of that precious something.

"Are you sad, Nanny?" asked Will, breaking her out of her thoughts.

She sighed. "No Master William, I'm fine. It doesn't matter in any case."

Will shook his head. "Nanny," he said, "you always tell me not to worry so much. 'Don't fret over what you can't help,' you always say. We're on a sea voyage, the perfect time to relax. And when the trip is done, we'll finally be in America!"

Nanny found herself smiling at her charge's enthusiasm. "Yes, of course," she said. "A chance for a new life."

"I have so many plans," said Will eagerly. "I can hardly wait for my first buildings to go up."

"You'll be the finest architect America will ever see," Nanny agreed.

"Ah, America. The land of opportunity," sighed Gaston dramatically as he fixed his tie in the mirror. "All zorts of things are possible there. For example I, your humble secretary, could one day become…your boss even!"

Will tried hard not to laugh at the thought of Gaston one day being his boss. "You're right," he said.

"Of courze I am! Now eef you will excuze me, I will take a stroll on ze deck."

"Alright," said William. "Be back soon, or I'll have to come and keep an eye on you."

"Ah Master William," moaned Gaston theatrically, "you keep me on such a short leash!"

"That's because I've learned that I apparently have to," muttered William as he secretary left the room.

* * *

On the deck, Molly was bored.

It was not like she was lacking for company. Tall, thin, and incredibly good-looking, she could have had as many love-struck men to chat with as she wanted. She didn't want that sort of conversation though. What she wanted was to sing.

Ever since she was a little girl, Molly had dreamed of being a famous singer. Her voice was very good and she performed in various locations, nowhere special, just wherever she could find work. So when she was hired to stay on the _Titanic_ as the ship's main source of entertainment for the passengers, she was ecstatic. The pay was excellent, she and her two Dalmatians were given a first-class room to stay in, and every mealtime she sang for the first-class diners.

It was the lulls between performances which got to her though. She filled the time as best she could, spending time with her dogs, relaxing in her room, or deciding what to sing at the next meal.

At that moment, she was talking to First Officer William Murdoch, one of the few who she enjoyed spending her time with on the ship.

* * *

"Oh magnifique! What a beauty! What a face! What a divine figure!" cried Gaston. He had, of course, just caught sight of Molly. A silly grin slipped across his face and he put his chest out at he swaggered towards her.

* * *

In the middle of her conversation, Molly paused. What appeared to be a self-important French man was coming towards her in a ridiculous fashion. She bit her lip, trying hard not to laugh.

"Excusez-moi, mademoiselle," he said smoothly as he drew near. "Bonjour…?"

"Molly," she sighed, seeing that he was waiting for a reply.

"Ah, Molly," he said. "Such a beautiful name!"

"Yes, isn't it?" she asked, trying not to roll her eyes.

"I must apologize for my terribly forward behavior…"

Did he really think she would fall for a stupid line like that?

"…But I could not help myzelf. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

Her Dalmatians, lying peacefully at her feet before, growled softly at him. At her side, the First Officer looked like he wanted to growl also. Molly sympathized with all three of them, but decided that she ought to show a bit more class than that.

"That's very sweet of you," she said, trying to figure out how to get rid of him. It shouldn't be too hard. He was hardly the first person to use lines like that on her.

The Frenchman turned to the First Officer. "May I borrow her for jeest one moment?" he asked.

Murdoch gave the man a cold look. "I'm afraid Miss Molly is due to perform for the first-class passengers very soon," he said.

"Are you quite sure?"

Molly gave Murdoch a look that said quite clearly _Bless you_. "Yes, quite," she said. "I have to go get ready and get my dogs back to the room."

"Ah, yes, I see," he said. "Such sweet dogs, no?"

He reached over to pet the Dalmatians, which were still growling at him.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Molly said quickly, pulling the dogs away by their collars. "Pongo, Perdita, time to go."

* * *

While Gaston had been trying unsuccessfully to woo Molly, a different conversation had been taking place. Fritz had snuck up on the deck for a word with the other dogs. He started with the Dalmatians."Psst!" he hissed. The two dogs left off growling at Gaston and looked Fritz's way. "Can you get away this evening to the bottom of the ship? We're all meeting to discuss our own party."

"I think we can," Pongo whispered back. "She'll leave us in the room when she goes to sing at dinner, but we should be able to leave and get back before she returns."

"That's fine then," said Fritz. "Then all that's left is…" He trailed off and glanced meaningfully at the Cocker Spaniel, seemingly asleep on the deck a few feet from his mistress.

Hearing the pause in the conversation, the dog opened one eye. "I heard the whole thing," he said lazily. "You can count me in. I ought to be freed up if I can get my job done soon."

"What job's that?" asked Fritz curiously.

"Winnie here lost most of her fortune through bad circumstances," Flopsy said, motioning towards his owner with his head. "All that's left to save us is gold digging, if you get my drift."

"I believe I do," said Fritz.

"See all those jewels on her?" the Cocker Spaniel continued. "All fake, top to bottom. Just a pretty lure. She wears the bait, I catch the fish." He broke off, his nose quivering. "Jackpot. I think there's a winner here," he muttered.

"Him?" asked Fritz, indicating to a middle-aged man in a fine-looking suit and monocle.

"Yep," said Flopsy. "If memory serves, that's Jeremy McFlannel, famous and rich banker. Talk about finding a walking diamond mine. If you'll excuse me…"

When Jeremy was close enough, Flopsy darted across his path. It all happened too fast for the banker to notice and a second later, he tripped on the dog's leash and literally fell into a delighted Winnie's arms. She wasn't the only one pleased though. He caught sight of her jewelry and his eyes gleamed almost as much as the gemstones did.

"Looks like I've got plenty of free time now," said Flopsy, satisfied.

* * *

"It was a locket that her long-lost mother gave her," Fivel finished explaining. "Then I fell and she saved me and gave me some bread. She was very nice."

"Ack Fivel, the things you get up to," sighed Mrs. Mouskewitz.

Fivel had only just returned to his parents, both of whom had been searching frantically for him. After assuring them both of his safety, he told them all about Anastasia and her troubles.

"So you found him then?" asked Fritz as he weaved his way through the boxes that littered the room.

"Fritz saved you from that horrid cat," explained Mr. Mouskewitz. "He chased it off before it caught you."

"Thank you!" said Fivel. "If it were not for you, I would now be in someone's digestion."

"You're quite welcome, but try to be a bit more careful in the future," said the Scotty. "I can keep everything alright down here, but if you go running off, who knows what will happen?"

"Oh yes," said Fivel. "The other animals on the ship will be here tonight, won't they?"

"Yes, to plan for the party tomorrow." Fritz looked at Fivel. "Why do you ask?"

"There is something I think they should be told to look out for. It belongs to this very nice girl, you see…"

* * *

It had been some hours since Gaston had last been to the room and William was familiar enough with his secretary to know that this would potentially lead to trouble. His book could wait he supposed and he marked his place, stretched, and decided that it would not hurt to at least make sure that Gaston wasn't in any mischief.

* * *

At this exact same time, mischief of a different sort was going on. Jasper and Horace had been trying with decreasing success to unlock various first-class doors. They went from one end to another and finally found themselves back where they began.

"Horace old boy," said Jasper. "We'll be in for it for sure if we don't have better luck soon."

"Jasper," said Horace. "Look over there. Isn't that the fat lady's room? The one with all the jewels?"

Jasper looked and saw two things: That Horace was right about the room's owner (a rare occurrence) and that the door was open just the tiniest amount. Hardly noticeable, but it was there.

"She must have forgotten to shut it properly," Jasper chuckled. "C'mon Horace me lad! Our luck has turned."

"Suppose she's in there now?" whispered Horace as they tiptoed to the room. "Maybe that's why the door's still open."

"It's just the old bag and her smelly dog," hissed Jasper. "We can take her if she is."

Silently, Jasper hooked his bony fingers around the door and swung it open just enough to slip inside. Horace tried to squeeze in as well, though it was much tighter for him. The two men froze, ears perked for the slightest sound. The lights were off, and it was pitch-black. There was a faint creaking from the floorboards. So someone _was_ in there besides them. Jasper started to signal for Horace to follow his lead, but realized that with the lights out his associate would be unable to see the signal. Best make the first strike and hope for the best…

Jasper leapt forward with a cry, grabbing at whatever he could. A loud crash to his left signified that Horace had just done the same. He felt something collide with the top of his head and the gave a cry of pain as something claw-like raked down the side of his face. He stumbled backwards into Horace. He grabbed his friend's arm and yanked him towards the door. This wasn't worth it at all.

The pair shot out of the room into the well-lit corridor as fast as they could.

"What the devil _was_ that?" Jasper gasped.

"Dunno," Horace panted as they ran. "Do you suppose she also owns a cat? I think it bit me!"

* * *

The clothes were washed, ironed, and mended and all that was left was for Anastasia to bring them back to her foster mother. Perhaps the delivery of their clothes would put them in a better mood. She was feeling almost happy herself and hummed a tune as she carried the heavy basket down the corridor. She was nearly there and only just registered that a blonde man was walking straight towards her. She began to step to the right so that he could pass easier.

"Gangway!" she suddenly heard two men shout somewhere behind her. She glanced backwards and gave a short scream. A tall skinny man and a short fat one were racing down the corridor as quickly as they could. The two showed no intent of stopping and plowed right past her and the young man. The blonde man was just as shocked and dove sideways to avoid being run over. Unfortunately, he also dove straight into Anastasia.

* * *

"Slow down you fools!" William shouted after the two racing breakneck down the corridor. Bloody idiots, no regard for any of the other passengers. On top of that, he went and knocked someone else over. He felt so silly as he hastily tried to get to his feet. He could not believe this.

No, he really couldn't believe it, he realized as he got a better look at the girl. It was her, the same girl from the docks! And now he went and knocked her over. Poor thing.

"I'm terribly, terribly sorry about this," he said. "I really didn't mean to -"

"Oh it's alright," she said quickly. "I wasn't really paying attention."

"Well neither was I and I ran into you," he said. "Oh dear," he added, staring in dismay at the large pile of clothes on the floor. "I knocked over your basket!"

"It really is fine," the girl insisted. "It's not the first time, I know how to handle this."

"But please let me help," he said. He bent down and began furiously gathering all the clothing near him. Handkerchiefs, gloves, undergarments - no he couldn't quite bring himself to pick those up. The girl seemed to notice this and smiled sweetly, though he suspected she was suppressing the urge to laugh. He found himself growing warm and tried to cover it up.

"This…I'm sure this would look ravishing on you," he said, snatching up the closest thing - a blue dress, and holding it up towards her. She stared at him blankly and he couldn't blame her. The thing was much too large for her and would fit her about as well as a circus tent. What the blazes was he thinking?

She smiled again. "I'm afraid that's not mine. Let me have that please."

"Oh, yes of course," he said, handing it to her. For the first time, he got a better look at her face. He noticed that her eyes were very blue, just like sapphires. They looked very nice with her red hair.

"Excuse me, could you let go?" he heard her giggle. He realized that while he was busy staring at her eyes and hair like a fool she had been trying to take the dress from him. He let go with a start.

"This is just like last time, hmm?" he asked with a nervous laugh.

"Last time?" she looked confused.

"On the docks," he explained. "In the crowd, you were knocked against me…"

A look of realization dawned on her face. "That was you? Oh dear…"

Now it was Will's turn to chuckle at the look on her face. "It seems fate is determined to throw us together."

She laughed and he found himself pleased she enjoyed his joke. She had a lovely smile as well. "A little too roughly for my taste," she said. "I'm not sure I approve." She stood up. "Now I must go."

"Must you?" he asked with a smile.

"Yes I must," she said. "Now give me the dress back please."

Will tried to fold the dress into the basket as best he could, but suspected that he got it all wrong. Nanny tried to teach him how to do it, but he really never caught on. The girl laughed again and took it from him.

"Let me," she said. "I'm afraid you're hopeless."

Within a few seconds, she had expertly folded the dress neatly into the basket.

"Here, let me," said Will, picking it up from the floor and handing it to her. As she took it, her hand brushed his. It was an innocent touch, but it felt almost electrical somehow.

The girl gave him a small smile. "Thank you for helping me," she said and continued on her way to her destination. Will saw her enter one of the rooms and vanish. He kept the room number in his mind. Perhaps he might see her again. In fact, he very much wanted to…


	5. Chapter 5

"You ought to be more careful and don't get too familiar with the passengers," First Officer Murdoch warned. "Otherwise -"

"Otherwise what?" cut in Molly irritably. "I'm always a perfect lady and I have nothing to be ashamed of so leave me alone about it. I can't help if idiots try to get my attention."

She was on her way to sing for dinner and wanted nothing more than to get started. She knew Murdoch meant well, but that didn't stop her from being annoyed.

"Anyway," she continued, "I can take care of myself. I'm a big girl."

"Yes I know," muttered Murdoch. "I believe that's the problem."

"Oh no…"

"Now what?"

"It's that Frenchman," sighed Molly. She had just noticed him, sitting a few tables away drinking tea. He seemed to catch sight of her quickly though and was being so flamboyant that she doubted she could effectively ignore him.

"We just told him you were going to perform," said Murdoch. "What part of that doesn't he understand?"

"I can take care of him," she whispered as the Frenchman stood up and began to walk towards her. "You just leave the talking to me."

"Bonjour lovely Molly," the man purred as he came closer. "Ah would be most honored if you would join me for a cup of tea?"

"I'm sorry," said Molly with as much patience as she could muster. "I'm going to sing for the passengers now. I believe I told you that before."

"Oh yes of courze, how silly of me," he said quickly. "But before you begin, I have a prezent for you. It would look most stunning on you, no?"

Molly was about to protest - she really wasn't in the habit of taking presents from strange men trying to get her to notice them - but the words died in her mouth when she saw what it was.

It was a locket. Beautiful, sparkling with blue stones, and hung on a fine gold chain, she had never seen anything like it before.

"Oh thank you," she whispered. "It's lovely!"

"Would mademoiselle permit me to place it around her neck?"

"Oh…I suppose so,"

"Does our First Officer have a problem?" the Frenchman asked, apparently catching sight of Murdoch's glowering face.

"No, I sincerely hope not," said Molly, sitting so that he could reach around her neck easier. As he worked the clasp, she felt his breath on the back of her neck and felt disgusted. What was she thinking? "Are you done?" she asked. "I really must begin."

"Ah, of courze," he said, pulling back his hands with some regret.

She wanted to hit him. Not the time or place though. She felt the chill of the locket on her skin as she took her place at the front of the dining room, musicians behind her.

Instantly the music started. She closed her eyes, feeling the rhythm. "Ahhhhhhhhh," she sang, holding the note perfectly. "Ever hoping there would come a day/ When I'd hear my one and only say/ 'Hold me, never let me go, you're all I'll ever need!/ And I know I will love you so, for all eternity!/ My life has begun, because you're the one holding me!'"

As the music swelled, she felt herself smile. This was perfect. The audience was silent, but it was a silence she knew well. Not bored but entranced. And she was in rapture.

"Never knowing I could feel this way/ But when you're near me, I can't wait to say/ 'Hold me, never let me go/ You're all I'll ever need!/ I know I will love you so, for all eternity!/ My life has begun, because you're the one holding me!'/ It's like a dream come true/ For I'm in love with you!/ Hold me, never let me go/ You're all I'll ever need!/ I know I will love you so, for all eternity!/ My life has begun, because you're the one holding me!"

She held the note for as long as she could, anticipating the applause that would come. She was at peace here and never wanted to leave.

* * *

"Alright now," said Fritz. "The Dalmatians and the Spaniel have access to the first-class dining room, so they'll take care of providing the first and second courses."

As the humans were in the dining rooms eating their dinner, the animals were in the cargo room of the ship planning their own reception. In the corner, the Mexican mice were practicing a lively party tune. They had agreed to be the entertainment.

"Fair enough," said Flopsy.

"I can do that," said Pongo. "I'm afraid Perdita's out of the picture though." He nuzzled his wife lovingly. "She's going to be presenting me with some heirs.

There was some murmuring of surprise and cries of "Congratulations" at this.

"Fair enough," said Fritz. "The mice know their way around the storerooms, they'll take care of everything else. As for the rest of you," he added, looking at Hector and the Parisian sewer rat, "use your skills to help others for a change and get us some decorations."

Fivel cleared his throat as loud as he could.

"Oh yes," continued Fritz, "Apparently there is a very sweet girl on the boat who is kind to animals and who has lost a very valuable locket. It's got a picture of her missing mother in it and she misses it very much. Please keep your eyes open and tell us if you see something like that. Now let's get to work!"

* * *

William spent most of the evening and the next morning thinking about that redhead girl. He then spent until an hour before lunch was to be served plucking up the courage to go to her room to see her again. It wasn't that he didn't want to. But what would he say? That he was the idiot that knocked her over before, would she care to take a walk on the deck with him? His desire overcame his insecurities however and he finally got himself out of his room and back to the door he saw her enter. It was then another ten minutes before he could bring himself to knock. When he did, the door was answered by a severe-looking woman in a fancy dress.

"May I help you?" she asked sweetly, something she seemed out of practice with.

"Yes hello," said William. "I'm here to see your…daughter?"

"Which one?" the woman asked. "Hortense or Bernice?"

Hortense? Bernice? Neither sounded like names he'd put with the redheaded girl. "Erm, I'm not sure," he said.

"Girls, come here," the woman called.

Her daughters came forward and Will nearly blanched. One was bony as a horse with black curly hair. The other was redheaded, but she was also incredibly fat with an odiously simpering expression on her face. All three - the girls and their mother - were looking at Will like dogs who found a juicy steak.

"Now then, which one was it?" asked the woman.

"You don't happen to have another daughter, do you?" asked Will.

"Not to the extent of my knowledge, no."

"Any other young lady traveling with you?"

"Oh no." For a moment, the woman's face darkened, but it passed so quickly that he wasn't sure what it meant. "Just myself and my two _gorgeous_ daughters."

"I see," said William, edging away from the door. "I seem to have the wrong room then. I'll just be off…"

"Oh please stay a little longer!" said the woman, catching his arm in a surprisingly strong grip. "Have tea! It isn't very often that we get such a handsome young man as a visitor."

"It isn't very often!" cackled the two sisters in unison.

_I'm sure it isn't_ thought Will. Aloud, he said "No I'm terribly sorry, I must go. Good day!"

And with that, he managed to pull his arm free and leave as quickly as he could.

* * *

"Why whatever happened to you?" asked Nanny ask Will entered the room, panting and looking as if he'd just had a shock.

"Oh, nothing much," he said.

"Young man, I think I know you well enough to know if something is 'nothing much' or not. Now what happened?"

"I saw this girl last night," he began.

"Ah," said Nanny knowingly.

"I…just wanted to see her again today," he continued, flustered. "I went to the room I saw her enter last night, but she wasn't there. There was a woman who had two daughters who were…well never mind that. But now I have no idea where this girl is."

"Don't worry about that Master William," said Nanny soothingly. "We're on a ship in the middle of the ocean. She can hardly go anywhere. You'll surely meet her again somewhere."

"I hope so," said William. "I think I'll take a stroll on the deck to clear my head."

He paused with his hand on the door. "Nanny, do you think I'm going soft in the head?"

"Oh no my dear," she said with a smile. "I know exactly what's going on," she added as he shut the door behind him.

* * *

In the dining hall, Cruella seethed over her breakfast and glanced hawk like at the other passengers. "Keep your eyes open boys," she hissed to her henchmen. "I think we've got competition on board this boat!"

"Why do you say that?" asked Horace thickly through a mouthful of bacon and eggs.

"I snuck into a room in the first-class corridor, a very wealthy woman lived there I heard. As I was looking through her things, some blundering idiots came in and tried to jump me."

"I see…" said Jasper nervously as Horace chocked.

"_I_ got the better of him though," said Cruella. "I bit one of them and they ran out. Keep your eyes peeled next run we have, will you?"

* * *

"I say sir, please take your seat!" called a waiter.

"Leave me alone," growled the strange-looking man.

The waiter looked over the man curiously. His hair was a brilliant blonde, almost orange, but he sported a coal-black beard. A gold earring hung from his left ear and thick smoke poured from a pipe hanging from his lips. "No sir, I cannot," the waiter insisted. "Please sit down or I will be forced to remove you from the dining hall."

The man's eyes flashed dangerously. "Do you know who I am?" he asked.

"No sir, and I don't really care," said the waiter patiently. "You're bothering the diners, now please cease and desist."

The man leaned close to the waiter. "Listen," he hissed. "You don't know me and that's fine. But I'm tracking down some thieves. They're somewhere on this boat. Now leave me to my business." And he pulled his beard down just below his chin, so that the waiter could see it was not attached.

The waiter watched the man leave, beard reattached, in complete bewilderment. He was wearing a fake beard? He was tracking thieves? What on earth was going on?

"So you've met our resident detective then," First Officer Murdoch said, smiling sarcastically at the look on the waiter's face.

"He really is a detective then?" asked the waiter. "I thought he was a loon who wandered up from third-class."

"No," said Murdoch, shaking his head, "That is Detective Sam Bradbury, who is currently trying to capture some jewel thieves undercover. He has asked for us to ignore his efforts and remain calm, as he is trying to work incognito. You see, he doesn't want to draw attention to himself."

The waiter watched as Bradbury prowled the aisles between the tables, nearly knocking a glass of water into a lady's lap in the process. "He's doing a damn poor job of it," he commented before returning to his serving duties.

* * *

"And now I really don't know, Victoria," finished Anastasia. "He seemed very nice, but I couldn't help thinking he was a bit forward, talking about me in a dress and all."

"Very much different than when my husband courted me," agreed Victoria with a laugh. "But still, times change and it matters little if his intentions were good."

Anastasia, Victoria, and the grandchildren were taking a post-meal walk on the deck. The sun was shining, the gulls were crying, and all seemed well in the world. Anastasia was at least relaxed enough to retell the story of her encounter with the blonde boy to Victoria as the grandchildren ran about the third-class deck laughing.

"And he seemed so nervous the entire time," added Anastasia. "I wonder why, I felt rather sorry for him."

"I'm sure many boys would be nervous, talking to a pretty girl like you," said Victoria.

"Oh, I'm sure he didn't think of me like that!" exclaimed Anastasia, blushing. His smile, his laugh, she was sure he was just being kind. But still…

"Have you ever thought of marriage my dear?"

Anastasia frowned. "Sometimes," she said. "I was raised by my foster family since I was a young girl. After finding my parents, it's been a dream of mine to raise a family of my own. I want to have lots of children, and give them all the love I've missed."

* * *

"Ah, good morning Mrs. Vanderplank," called the Captain.

"Yes isn't it? Such lovely weather for sailing I'm sure." A tall, elegant lady strolled gracefully across the first-class deck to greet the Captain.

"How are the children faring on this voyage?" he asked, taking her hand in welcome.

"Oh, splendidly. Just splendidly," she gushed. "Rob! Barbara! Come and say hello to the Captain!"

Mrs. Rhoda Vanderplank's children glanced up from their games just long enough to give a brief "Hello!"

The Captain chuckled. "Well it must be quite exciting for them."

"Indeed it is."

"And may I ask how Mr. Vanderplank has taken to this voyage?" asked the Captain.

"Ah," said Mrs. Vanderplank, "I'm afraid my husband is not on this voyage. He was called away for the family business."

"I see," said the Captain. Of course, most on the ship knew about the famous Vanderplank copper mines.

"Why look over there!" said Mrs. Vanderplank in surprise, as she noticed a couple strolling at the other side of the deck. "Isn't that Mr. Jeremy McFlannel? The famous banker? And he has the woman on his arm! Winifred Brown, I believe her name is? Oh my word, he's clutching her arm as if it were a life preserver!"

"Why so you're right," commented the Captain, who had no idea what this signified. His work prevented him from keeping up with the latest news on the fortunes and misfortunes of the elite of the world.

"Dear me, he must be in hard times since his bank went under," she continued. "I expect he's heading abroad to make a new start. Who would have thought he would keep such close company with that Miss Brown? From what I understand, she's got no better prospects than he does."

"Curious indeed," agreed the Captain. "I suppose love would win out over money, or at least we'd like to think?"

"Of course," said Mrs. Vanderplank. Then, "Barbara! Come away from the railing!"

"My ball!" cried Barbara. "My ball fell down there!"

"Fell down where?" Mrs. Vanderplank hurried towards her sobbing daughter.

"It fell down to the third class deck, Mom," Rob explained. "I tried to catch it, but it slipped right past me."

"Oh dear," sighed Mrs. Vanderplank. "I'll get it then."

"Let me get it," said the Captain graciously.

"I'll get it!" came a cry by the stairs. The speaker was a young blonde man, who was headed towards the third-class deck before they could counter.

* * *

"Mummy look!" cried Bernice, looking over the handrail. "There's that handsome man who came to our room before!"

"Yes, who came to our room before!" echoed Hortense.

"Why so it is," commented Lady Tremaine, having a look herself. "Whatever is he doing at the third-class deck?"

"Getting that brat's ball," replied her daughters in unison.

"And look!" cried Hortense in disgust. "He's headed right towards Anastasia!"

"Look Mummy! Right towards Anastasia!" called Bernice in agreement.

Sure enough, the two were headed right for each other. Lady Tremaine glowered. That was the man who asked if she had _another_ girl traveling with them. At the time, it briefly crossed her mind that he meant Anastasia. He was obviously a young man of high breeding though. How could he possibly prefer a working-class girl like her over Gertrude's own fine daughters? Still, she'd better make sure…

"Anastasia!" Lady Tremaine barked over the rail. "Come here at once! There's chores for you to do!"

On the third-class deck, Gertrude saw Anastasia's shoulders sag as she bade goodbye to the old woman and her noisy children. Just in time too. Not a second after Anastasia left, the young man walked dangerously close.

* * *

It had to be her! He only caught a glimpse, but he was sure of it! But where was she off to?

William had found the ball alright and tossed it back up to the first-class deck, where it was quickly caught by the children. He smiled as he watched the poor girl dry her tears and run off, happy once more. He had heard someone on the deck call out a name, but he could not make it out. It was then that he had turned and saw a flash of red hair as a girl fled from the deck, towards the cabins.

"Excuse me!" He ran to the closest person on the ship. An elderly, white-haired lady. "Excuse me!" he called again. She paused and he ran to her side. "Who was that girl? What was her name? Please?"

The woman gave him an appraising look. "I'm not sure I should tell you that young man. It's her business if she wants to introduce herself to you."

"But I don't know where to find her again," said Will. "I saw her enter a room in the first-class corridor, but the people staying there never heard of her. And now I see her strolling on the third-class corridor. I don't understand…"

"Does it make a difference to you if she is staying in first or third-class?" asked the woman sternly.

"Of course not!" cried William. It came out louder than he intended, and he paused to get better control. "I just…I just want to see her again." he said. "I want to just…talk to her."

The woman looked at him carefully. "You really want to see her again?"

"Yes! With all of my heart!" All of his heart? What sort of a thing was that to say? The woman raised her eyebrows and he felt himself start to blush. "Do you know where I can see her again?"

"Well," the woman seemed to consider. Then, "She always enjoys taking walks here after meals. Perhaps you might catch her on one of them, if you're lucky."


	6. Chapter 6

Molly was in quite a good mood. It was nearly lunch and she was busy getting ready to perform in the dining hall. She hummed one of her songs to herself as she fixed her hair in the mirror.

Molly was not a very romantic woman. It was surprising, considering how many love songs she sang, but perhaps a lifetime of strange men - strange in every meaning of the word - trying to win her affections put her off any hope of having a fairy tale romance of her own. She certainly had no love for the French gentleman. But the locket he gave her was captivating. It almost seemed to tell a story, and she wondered about this as she prepared herself.

* * *

The Dalmatians lay quietly on the floor. Their mistress paid them little attention as she dressed.

Perdita watched as Molly slipped the locket around her neck and then leaned over to her husband. "You realize that the locket that French masher gave her could very well be the missing one," she whispered.

"I wouldn't doubt that," Pongo whispered back. "How would we get it back to her? Molly would notice if we took it."

"We'll just have to find an animal on this ship who can get it easily."

"That might work," replied Pongo. "But cut out the 'we' stuff. You know you're out of the picture on this. You're about to present me with some heirs."

His wife snorted and laid her head down on the floor.

* * *

The First Officer was in the bridge when he heard a gentle knocking at the door. "Enter," he called.

He turned and saw a young girl with red hair enter meekly. "Excuse me sir," she said. "is the Captain here? I need to ask him something."

"He just left for lunch I'm afraid," said Murdoch. "You can tell me though. I'm the First Officer."

"Well you see," the girl explained, "I've lost something quite valuable and my roommate suggested I come here and ask if it's been found. It's a locket you see. It's oval and has blue jewels on it and hangs on a gold chain."

"I see," said Murdoch. Why did that sound so familiar to him? He wracked his brains, trying to remember where he'd seen something like that before. "I'm afraid nothing like that has been turned in or reported found, miss."

"Oh," said the girl sadly.

Suddenly it dawned on him - that was the locket that idiotic Frenchman gave to Molly! He thought it was suspicious. After all, how many men travel with a spare piece of jewelry to give to someone they meet by chance? "I promise you miss, we'll keep our eyes open," he said.

"Thank you!" The girl looked much happier at this. "My name is Anastasia Pickering and I'm staying in Cabin 5, third-class."

"Of course miss." Murdoch decided that he would talk to Molly about it after she had performed at dinner. The locket wouldn't go anywhere and he wouldn't have to get her upset until after she was finished working for the day.

The girl turned to leave the bridge. "Please tell me if anything comes up," she reminded him.

Murdoch smiled. "Rest assured miss, you'll get it if we do."

* * *

As per Fritz's orders, Macintosh the mouse slipped silently down the air vent towards the kitchen. All he had to do was steal enough food for the appetizers and he could scurry back to safety. As he neared the grate, his nose quivered and he saw why when he was close enough. Sitting on the kitchen countertops, in plain sight, were masses of cubed cheese - all kinds - sticks of celery, carrots, and stacks of crackers. Of course, it was almost lunchtime and the chef must be preparing to serve the passengers. But where was the chef? Macintosh cautiously leaned out through the gate and listened. Nothing. He slipped out into the open. If the chef showed up, he was most likely a goner. But still nothing. Perhaps he left to go get some more ingredients? Whatever the case may be, Macintosh decided that he'd do best to capitalize on the chef's absence and make off with as many delicious treats as he could.

"Stupid bat-dog! You get out of here!" the chef screamed. His face was livid as he ran after the tiny Chihuahua as fast as he could. The dog gave a satisfying yelp and dashed off towards the first-class cabins.

The man laughed and walked back towards the kitchens. Served the little monster right, hanging around trying to get a hand-out. No, it would take more than _that_ to get food from his stores!

Macintosh moved fast and nearly had enough packed away into the vent shaft. On the countertop, he stopped. His ears quivered. He could hear footsteps! He grabbed as much food as he could, everything within reach, and ran for it.

He almost wasn't fast enough. Behind him, he heard a shriek of fury. So the chef had returned. Macintosh dashed for the grate. He was nearly there.

"Stop you little thief!" he heard the chef call out.

The mouse didn't dare look back. He kept going until he'd gone straight into the grating. Somewhere behind him, he heard a tremendous crash. He risked a glance behind and nearly fell down laughing. The chef had smashed headfirst into the grating while trying to catch Macintosh.

* * *

Lunch was delicious that day. Molly's singing was perfect as usual. Everyone was completely relaxed and enjoying themselves.

At their table, Jasper poked Horace in the side.

"Ouch! What is it?" Horace asked irritably.

His associate responded by jerking his head, indicating to a table some feet away. There she was, that jeweled lady, with some old man and her dog. "I say, let's work the fat lady there. After all the trouble she's caused us, she deserves it."

Horace nodded greedily. "Her and her stupid mutt," he added, following Jasper as quietly and stealthily as he could (which wasn't very).

"Double team, do you think?" asked Jasper softly.

"Sounds fine."

Jasper nodded and fell back, pretending to be thoroughly caught up in examining someone's abandoned remains of fish. Horace continued onward boldly. The clasp on the handbag didn't look too difficult to open and the lady was lost in conversation with her gentleman friend. So much the better.

As he began to pass the handbag, Horace quickly reached over to snap the lock. The plan was simple: Open, pass his hand through as quickly as he could, and swipe whatever he grabbed. He grinned as his fingers touched the familiar smoothness of pearls. He closed his fingers around it and pulled it out, quickly closing the handbag.

Right on cue, Jasper came striding past as Horace prepared to continue on his course. The plan was for Horace to sneakily pass whatever he stole to Jasper, who would then continue calmly to their room. Just as Jasper reached the table however, he jumped at least a half a foot in the air and gave a loud yell. Horace, realizing that their secrecy was compromised, quickly set off with his prize at hand. He was in the corridors to the rooms before he dared to wait for Jasper to wait up.

* * *

Of course the commotion was caused by Flopsy, who had been sleeping peacefully under the table. He happened to wake up just as both Horace and Jasper were right by him, not a half an inch from his nose. He could smell that they were up to no good and, determined to protect his owner at all costs, bit the closest leg to him. He heard the leg's owner give a yell, which unfortunately prompted the owner of the other pair of legs to run off. Oh well, either way the troublemakers were gone. Job well done, Flopsy returned to sleep.

* * *

At her table, Victoria and the grandchildren had finished their own lunches.

"Time to go back to our rooms for a rest," she said, herding them towards the door.

"But Granny," protested Ernest, "We always take a walk on the deck with Anastasia after dinner!"

"Not this time dear," said Victoria with a smile. "I think Anastasia would like a little walk on her own."

* * *

Her thoughts mixed together as she stared at the endless sky and sea. Her locket, her mother, that young man, all of it seemed to come together somehow. But of course it would never be so perfect. Nothing in her life ever was.

"I knew you existed!"

She turned, startled. Coming up behind her was the blonde man. "I never expected to see you on the third-class deck," she commented. "I would have thought for sure you'd be inside, listening to the wonderful singer."

The man joined her at the railing. He stood beside her, looking out into the great blue eternity. "I was too busy looking for someone," he said with a smile. "Someone with unforgettable eyes." He turned and looked straight at her. "And now that I've finally found her, I won't just let her walk away."

Anastasia smiled, but inside she was so confused. Why was he saying this? He really wanted to see her again?

From inside the dining area, they could hear the singer's voice, loud and clear: "Kissing in a warm embrace…Let the sky open up above you…"

Before she knew what was happening, the young man gently took Anastasia's right hand in his and put his other arm around her waist as they began to dance slowly to the music. She didn't even notice how she began the steps. It seemed so natural. So peaceful.

"Please don't be make fun of me," she said. "I'm just a poor girl in third-class. I don't belong in your world. I could never compete with the girls that surround you."

"What are you saying?" asked the man, looking slightly hurt. "Do you think that's all I care about?"

"No, of course not," said Anastasia quickly.

They continued to dance. The music continued to play. The singing continued onward: "Let the sun rise around you…"

"What's your name?" the man asked. "I'm William. Will if you prefer."

William. "I'm Anastasia," she said softly.

"What a lovely name," he said gently.

He really thought that? She found herself smiling again. It happened so often when he was around, she noticed. "It looks like fate _is_ trying to put us together," she teased. "but now I must go."

William smiled sadly. "Must you?" he said. A repeat of their last conversation.

Anastasia gently pulled herself free of him. She leaned close to him for a moment. "Yes I must," she whispered. Then she stepped back and began to walk away.

"All across the universe!" cried the singer in the dining hall.

"Will I see you at the reception?" William called after her. "I want to meet you there!"

Anastasia waved goodbye sadly.


	7. Chapter 7

It was cutting things closer than they would have liked, but the Dalmatians finally found someone to help get back the locket, just as their owner was taking a shower before the reception. The locket was sitting in plain sight on the dresser. Now if only the help would arrive before she returned…

Pongo looked up and growled slightly as the grate on the air vent creaked.

"I think it's them dear," his wife whispered.

Sure enough, a second later the grating was propped open by Fivel and his father. When it was high enough, the very disgruntled Hector squeezed out.

"You didn't tell me I'd have to go through a drinking straw to get here," he complained. "I'm claustrophobic, give me a break!"

"Stop your squawking," hissed Pongo sternly. "The locket's on the dresser. Get it and get out before Molly comes in."

"I hear 'ya, sheesh," muttered the bird irately. It was the work of the moment for him to flutter to the desk and snatch up the necklace in his beak. "Ohh, shiny…" he mumbled, taking notice of the other earrings, bracelets, and perfume bottles on display.

"Hey! We got what we came for. You can't have anything else. Time to go!" called Fivel.

"Fine, fine," Hector grumbled, preparing to fly back up to the grate.

Everyone froze as the door to the bathroom opened and Molly came out, a towel wrapped around her middle as she dried her hair. "No, no other man in my heart," she sang softly.

Pongo and Perdita ran towards their mistress, ears back and tails wagging.

"Hello there," she laughed, leaning down to scratch their heads. "Don't you guys look happy today!"

The Dalmatians carefully walked in a circle around her, keeping her attention away from the air vent.

"Go!" whispered Pongo.

"Pleasure doin' business wit'cha," replied Hector, squeezing back into the vent.

* * *

"I'm still not sure why you want me to follow you down here," grumbled Tiger as he followed Azreal down some steps into the smelly bottom of the ship.

"I just need your help with something," said the cat smoothly.

"Ha, the last thing I need's more trouble. I was just chased all the way to first-class by some stupid chef who thought I was begging for food. Me? Beg? What a laugh."

"Oh relax. I just need you for a moment," Azreal reassured the Chihuahua. "I just want to stop in for a little snacky-wacky and there are so many delicious choices here. You just need to take care of distracting any of the flea-bitten mutts that also reside down here."

"I can't see why you'd want to eat something that's been staying down _here_," grumbled Tiger, wrinkling his nose at the stench.

"Fritz! They're here!" whispered Mrs. Mouskewitz in alarm.

"So soon?" asked Fritz, looking rather unconcerned. He turned to Macintosh. "You know what to do."

"Right," said the mouse, scurrying off to his position.

"Ah, what luck!" cried the cat, spotting him. "Just the snack I was hoping for!"

Macintosh stood boldly in front of the cat, not a foot away. He rolled his eyes and stuck out his tongue.

"Come here you tasty thing!" The cat ran at a speed surprising for his size, followed close behind by a ridiculous bat-like dog.

Macintosh was quicker though and slipped backwards out of sight in the darkness. A few seconds later, the two predators realized what exactly was going on. Fritz had anticipated unwelcome visitors and had found a cage which was large enough to suit his purposes. The cage had been positioned with the door open and Macintosh had run inside. While the mouse was small enough to squeeze back out through the bars though, the cat and dog had no such luck and, unable to stop in time, found themselves trapped in the cage with a crash as they hit the far cage wall. As they stood up, there was a click; Fritz had calmly closed and locked the door.

* * *

Mr. McFlannel knocked genteelly on Winnie Brown's door. "Hello Winifred," he called. "Care for a stroll on the deck before the reception?

Winnie opened her door looking worried. "I'd love too sweetie, but I just can't understand it. I had a pearl chocker in my bag when we were at lunch today and now it's gone!"

"What?" cried Jeremy in alarm. "How? Was it insured?"

"Oh no, I never bother with that," she said. "All my jewelry's fake. I'm no Rhoda Vander plank - I wish. It just vexes me, that's all." She looked at the very confused banker. "You knew that, didn't you honeybunch? And we'll be together forever!"

"Oh…I say…" stammered Mr. McFlannel, at a loss for words.

"Come on now darling, that walk sounds divine," said Winnie, hooking her arm around his and leading the banker numbly up on the deck.

* * *

"This is it," said Fivel from the air vent leading to Anastasia's room. "Just drop it down to her."

"I won't," said Hector stubbornly.

"But it's hers!"

"Not anymore! It's mine now. Finder's keepers."

Fivel stamped his foot. "How will she prove she's her mother's daughter if she doesn't have the locket?"

"That's not my problem," Hector insisted. "I'm keeping it."

"I'll tell Fritz! You know he told you to only steal to _help_ people!"

"I won't," said Hector. "You'll have to force me to give it up."

* * *

At the exact same time, Anastasia was in her room with Victoria and the grandchildren.

"I met him again today," she said. "The young man. He told me his name this time. William."

"How wonderful my dear!" said Victoria.

"He seems so nice," continued Anastasia. "But I suppose I could be wrong…"

"He certainly sounds sincere," commented the grandmother. "And who could deceive a girl like you?"

Anastasia smiled. "Well in any case, I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint him tonight. He's invited me to meet him at the reception, but I won't be going."

"My dear, you mustn't be nervous!"

"I'm not nervous. In fact, I'd very much like to go." It was true. Before that day, she really had no desire to attend, but somehow the thought of Will waiting for her…she very much wanted to see him there. There would be music…and dancing…she shook her head. "I have no dress," she explained. "My foster family would never lend me anything suitable."

"What about Mama's dress?" asked Catherine.

"Hmm, it just might fit," agreed Victoria. "My daughter-in-law had me bring several of her things to America with us, things she couldn't bring when she first went over," she explained to Anastasia. "Among them was a lovely dress which I believe would look stunning on you."

"Oh, I couldn't possibly!" protested Anastasia.

"You must," said Victoria. "Wear it and go see young William tonight. There's still time for you to get ready."

"Grandma, there's a bird in the air vent!" cried Ernest.

"Shh dear, not now," said his grandmother patiently.

"There is really," said Catherine. "It's up there with that mouse from before!"

* * *

Hector was quick but Fivel was quicker and was able to pull the locket from the bird's beak."Give it back!" Hector shouted.

Fivel responded by tossing it through the grating, into the room. The magpie, determined to take it back, smashed through the open grate and followed it to the floor. Fivel was right behind, climbing to the ground using a spool of thread as a rope.

"No more of this nonsense!" he insisted. "It's hers, now put it around her neck!"

Hector glanced guiltily around the room. Now that he was found out, he didn't dare try to keep the jewelry anymore. "Fine," he grumbled. "I never thought I'd see the day when I'd return something that was mine."Chain in beak, he flew up just above the girl's head. He expertly let go, letting the locket fall down around her neck. She was puzzled at first, then saw what it was he was returning.

"This is it, my locket!" she cried joyously. She quickly opened it and showed the picture inside to the other occupants. "I know that's my mother, and I will find her one day!"

"Don't you feel better?" asked Fivel.

"Hmph." said Hector.

The girl turned to the animals. "You found this for me, didn't you? You're so wonderful!" She carefully picked up Fivel and gently kissed him on the head. Then she leaned down and kissed Hector as well.

"You sure you don't feel better?" Fivel giggled.

"Hrm," said Hector, looking a bit dazed but cheerful. "Let's go back now."

* * *

Gaston swaggered into the dining hall, eager for the reception. He noticed the lovely Molly by the musicians. As soon as she caught sight of him, she came straight over. He grinned. Giving her that locket was a stroke of genius. Just the perfect use! He was originally going to sell it once he'd reached America, but this worked out so much better.

"Ah, mademoiselle, you look exquisite this evening," he purred.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm afraid I have some bad news though. The locket you gave me has gone missing! I can't find it anywhere."

"Excuse me ma'am," a strange orange-haired man with a pipe cut in. "I couldn't help overhearing you say some jewelry of yours has gone missing. Would you mind having a few words with -"

"Could it wait until after the reception?" she asked irritably.

"Oh yes, of course," said the man and he slunk off in what he seemed to think was an inconspicuous manner.

"I will see you after the singing, no?" asked Gaston hopefully.

"Maybe," said Molly with a sigh. She headed back to the musicians.

Gaston looked for a seat, preferably one with a good view of the performers. He paused at one table. "Ah, Master William!" he cried, recognizing his employer. "You look very sad. Iz something ze matter?"

"Nothing Gaston," said William. "I'm waiting for someone, but I'm just not sure if she'll show up."

"'She'? Then eet ees a charming young lady my master wishes to see?"

"There she is!" cried William. With surprising vigor, he stood up.

* * *

She could tell he was staring at her. He was hardly the only one. It seemed like most of the passengers in the dining hall found her very interesting. _Do I really look that nice?_ Anastasia wondered.

With Victoria's help, Anastasia's hair had been carefully piled up on her head. The dress was a deep blue. Blue as the ocean they sailed on, blue as the jewels on the locket. And it fit perfectly. The locket hung around her neck once more, the gold standing out against the blue of the dress.

She knew where William was the instant she stepped through the door. He was standing up, coming towards her. Like a dream, she moved towards him.

The music drifted to them. Words came out of the singer's mouth beautifully: "You're in my blood, you're in my blood, you're in my blood!"

They reached each other on the dance floor.

"So let's start this right along!"

Her hand was once more in his. His arm was once more around her waist. Once more, they were dancing.

"You're in my blood, you're in my blood, you're in my blood…so let's start this right along…"

The dress clung to her softly, weighed down by the locket at her chest. For the first time, she felt beautiful. She felt like a princess.

"No, no other man in my heart. No, no other man…And so only happy with me…And so only happy with me!"

They twirled slowly around the floor, never missing a step. She felt safe, as long as he held her. His hand firmly on her back, the other holding her right hand tightly, as long as he had her, she feared nothing. Not her foster family and not of being alone forever.

"By the dark that's rising! Ahhahhh!" sang the woman.

The song was coming to an end. William gave a smile and glanced towards the door leading to the deck. Anastasia knew exactly what he was asking. She smiled back and the two ran, hand in hand, outside.

* * *

The dining hall was abuzz at the sight of the lovely couple.

"Now isn't that a sight?" sighed Winnie from her table with Jeremy. "It makes me wish I were ten years younger again."

"Ah, I remember my youth," sighed Mr. McFlannel. "The days of romance, when bliss never seemed to end.

The two looked at each other. "C'mon sugar," said Winnie, standing up. "Dance with me."

"Madam," said Jeremy, taking her arm and leading her to the dance floor, "I would be honored."

* * *

"Mummy look!" cried Hortense. "It's _Anastasia_!"

"Yes, Anastasia!" screamed Bernice. "With _that man_!"

"He did want her after all!"

"Of course he wants her!"

"Girls please," said Lady Tremaine calmly. "It is in poor taste to cry in public like that. Calm yourselves, I shall take care of it."

* * *

Gaston was in shock. He saw the young lady his master was dancing with. And he saw what was around her neck. _The locket_! And judging by the looks Molly had thrown the girl, she had noticed as well...

* * *

As the musicians prepared for the next number, Molly ran to Gaston. "Now I know who stole my locket!" she cried furiously. "It was that girl!"

"Well my dear," said Gaston, looking flustered, "We ought to be sure before we make any claims…"

"What do you think?" asked Molly, rounding on the approaching First Officer Murdoch.

Murdoch smiled cryptically. "Perhaps the locket is back with its rightful owner," he suggested.

"What does he mean by that?" Molly asked Gaston.

"Oh nothing!" cried Gaston, sweating very much now. "Nothing at - ah!"

Molly had finally given in to her first impulse: She slapped Gaston as hard as she could across the face before returning to the musicians to sing her next piece. Murdoch smiled turned much more smug as Gaston slunk away like a whipped dog.

* * *

"You know, I was afraid you weren't going to come," confessed William. The two stood side by side once more, leaning on the railings along the third-class deck. Where they had their first dance. The sun was setting and it was beautiful.

"I've been waiting my whole life for a moment as happy as this," said Anastasia. "I would never miss it. But now…no, you know nothing about me."

William gently put his hand over hers. "Nothing could ever prevent me from loving you."

The two turned and looked at each other. And then they leaned close…

The kiss lasted for a few seconds or perhaps a lifetime. Neither knew and neither cared at all. All they knew was that they never wished for it to end.

"Anastasia! Come here at _once_!"

But of course it would have to eventually.

"Anastasia," said Lady Tremaine. "Don't make me repeat myself!" She stood in the doorway, her face pinched and severe. Behind her, Hortense and Bernice stood with their arms folded, faces sour.

Anastasia looked at the floor and started towards them out of habit. Then she remembered that her hand was still under Williams. She stopped. "No," she whispered.

"What?" asked Lady Tremaine furiously.

"I said no, I won't," said Anastasia, stronger this time.

"Anastasia you ungrateful girl!" cried her foster mother.

Anastasia stood her ground. She felt William put his arms protectively around her and she felt brave.

"Madame," said William. "Might I suggest you return to the dining hall? You and your daughters are making a scene and I would hate for you to be embarrassed if you were asked to leave."

Gertrude threw William and Anastasia both disgusted looks. "You didn't deserve my daughters anyway," she snapped as she retreated with them at tow.

"Does anyone?" muttered William as Anastasia laughed.

* * *

As the humans danced and enjoyed themselves up top, the animals had a party of their own. The Mexican mice played an upbeat siesta tune and it was not long before they all danced and sang along. Fivel could not help laughing at the sight of his mother and father swinging each other wildly across the dance floor. The geese honked along and Pongo and Perdita enjoyed a sausage link together.

In their cage, Azreal and Tiger seethed at the sounds of laughter and music around them.

"Join the party!" came a tiny cry from by the cage door. "There's plenty for all!"

It was the little mouse child and he was offering them a plate of food. Azreal leaned forwards to accept - he hadn't eaten for hours - but Tiger cut in. "We don't food from commoners," said the Chihuahua obnoxiously.

The mouse scurried off, much to Azreal's fury. "Stupid dog!" he spat. "No what am I saying? You look more like a bat!" Then he noticed that the little mouse was good enough to leave the food within reach. Azreal helped himself and Tiger - just as hungry - soon humbled himself enough to accept some of the food as well.

* * *

"Look out there!" called one of the watchmen in the crow's nest.

His partner glanced at the water as well as he could in the dark. Nothing there but floating ice chunks. "What, you've never seen bits of ice before?""That's not just ice!" The watchman grabbed the phone connecting him to the wheel. "Hello? Hello?" he called. "Change course, there's an iceberg right in our path!"

* * *

"Full speed astern!" called the sailor in the bridge. The wheel was spun as hard as it could. The ship moved forward. It was slowly shifting to the left. Everyone cringed. Would they clear it?

As they drifted past, it appeared to be a narrow miss. Then there was a crash and violent shaking. The sailors cried out and grabbed a hold of whatever they could to keep upright.

A few minutes later, the Captain ran into the room, followed by the First and Second Officers. "What happened?" he asked. "What did we hit?"

"Iceberg sir," said one of the sailors. "Starboard side, we couldn't move in time.

"What's the damage?" asked the Captain. The sailor shook his head and the Captain felt cold. He turned to the First and Second Officers. "Alert the passengers," he said. "Order an evacuation immediately. The _Titanic_ is going to sink."


	8. Chapter 8

William had walked Anastasia back to her room not long ago, a little after midnight. He had then related the entire evening to Nanny and was now lying happily on the bed, too giddy to sleep.

"Being in love is such a wonderful thing," he sighed.

"Master William," said Nanny, looking through the porthole. "I think something's wrong."

"I'll see to it that she has no cares after this," he continued, getting off of the bed to have a look. "She'll be happy, just like me. The two of us, happy forever -"

He was cut off suddenly by a great crash. Caught off-balance, William fell to the ground. Nanny stayed up only by clinging to the dresser.

As soon as the shaking had subsided, the two returned to look out of the porthole. All that they could see was ice. Vast amounts of ice.

"Good heavens, did we just hit that?" asked Nanny.

"I have no idea," said William. He headed for the door. "I'll find an officer to ask." He paused and turned back to his Nanny. "And…put your life vest on. You'd better get ready for an emergency."

* * *

Inside the cargo hold, the animals slept soundly, exhausted from their party. From his bed, Fivel sat up, rubbing his eyes sleepily. Something seemed wrong, but he couldn't tell what. There was a hissing sound. Was it that stupid cat? No, there was something else. Then he realized that there was water on the floor. Was the ship leaking?

"Mama! Papa! Fritz! Wake up!" he called.

"What is it boy?" Mr. Mouskewitz asked.

"What's wrong?" asked Fritz.

By now, the other animals were waking up as well. They too sensed that something was wrong.

"What's that sound?"

"Why's the floor so wet?"

"The ship is moving differently"

Then there was a crash. Then the rushing of water.

"Everyone on a crate!" shouted Fritz. "The ship's been hit! She's going under! We need to get out while we still can!"

"Fivel, come quickly!" called Mrs. Mouskewitz as her husband pulled her onto the nearest crate. The little mouse was helped up by his father, but Mr. Mouskewitz realized that he himself couldn't climb up alone.

"Dearest!" shouted Mrs. Mouskewitz.

"Forget me! I'm a goner!" he called back. Then, "Ack!"

Flopsy had just caught Mr. Mouskewitz in his mouth and leapt up onto the mouse crate. "I don't reckon I could stand seeing your hearts break like that," he explained.

All around, the animals called for one another, looking for friends or family or shelter. Pongo helped Perdita onto a large crate before following her up. Hector caught the squirrel in his claws and carried him onto a crate before going back for Macintosh and the Parisian sewer rat. There were shouts and squawks and cries all around.

"Is everyone on a crate?" called Fritz. "We need to set out together!"

"No wait!" shouted Fivel. "Those two in the cages! They'll be drowned!"

Of course. In the confusion, they had forgotten about Azreal and Tiger. The cage was almost entirely underwater by now and the two could just be made scrambling for air.

"I'll get them," said one of the geese, bravely swimming out.

"Abigail, do be careful!" one of her friends called as the other honked anxiously.

Abigail's mission was a success however. With a quick snap of her beak, she undid the latch and the two prisoners came swimming out, desperate to find a crate. They caught the closest one, joining Hector, the rat, the squirrel, and Macintosh.

"Abigail!" shouted the other geese. Their friend looked exhausted, having spent all of her strength swimming against the current. As she drifted past, she was gently caught in Pongo's jaws and pulled to safety.

"Is that everyone now?" called Fritz. "It's time for us to move out! The emergency exit I constructed should still work. Follow my lead and keep together!"

* * *

Though the water had yet to reach the upper levels, even the humans began to be concerned about the state of things. People were now warned to put on their life vests and gather on the deck where, whispered rumor had it, the lifeboats were being lowered.

The commotion was so much that even Jasper and Horace started to wonder if something was going on. "Perhaps there's a second party on the deck?" Horace suggested.

"Don't know. But it doesn't matter," said Jasper. "Let's just get the jewelry you got to Cruella so she'll stop seething at us."

They knocked on her door and then entered.

"Well?" she asked expectantly. She held out her hand and took the chocker that they handed to her. With professional skills, she felt the pearls, examined the gems, and weighed it in her hands. Then she turned to her henchmen.

"Well boys, you've really done it," she said. "THEY'RE FAKES! YOU IDIOTS!"

"Well we thought…" stammered Horace.

"Somehow I seriously doubt that," snarled Cruella. "Go out and steal something else!"

"Right," said Jasper. "But don't you think we should go on deck and check out what's going on up there? After all, everyone's leaving their rooms to see something."

"So much the better for you to steal from," she laughed. "Get back to the thieving boys. _I'll_ check whatever's so wonderful on deck for you.

* * *

"Excuse me!" called William to an engineer running past. "What was that crash? Is something wrong with the machinery?"

"No sir!" said the engineer in a panic. "We've 'it an iceberg. She's not going to stay up for much longer. Captain's ordering everyone to get off of the ship quick as we can."

_Oh God_… thought William. "What's the quickest way to third class from here?" he asked aloud.

"Down those stairs, then take a right," said the engineer. "Mind you, it's probably closed off by now," he called as William ran off.

* * *

"Everyone's going up on the deck. We'd better get the children up," said Anastasia. She had gone to bed in very high spirits and, after returning the dress to Victoria, had fallen asleep almost immediately. She dreamt that she was flying through the air, which meant that her sudden awakening from the mysterious crash had been quite jarring.

Now she saw that everyone was in a panic and heading out. Victoria woke her grandchildren as quickly as she could and helped them get dressed. Anastasia found the life vests and helped everyone into theirs. What was happening? Was the ship sinking? Would everything end, once her world finally seemed to be in order?

* * *

Just as the engineer had predicted, the stairway to third class was barred with an iron gate. The entire area behind the gate was full of angry third class passengers with pleas to let them out, or at least let the women and children out.

"What's going on here?" asked William angrily. "Why won't you let these people go?"

"There's enough first class people on deck as it is," said one of the officers standing guard. "If we let any of this lot out, we'll be overrun."

"So you'll leave them to die because they're in a lower class?" William furiously scanned the crowd. Was Anastasia there?

"William!"

Yes! There she was! He could just see her, holding a young boy in her arms and standing with the elderly lady from the deck and a little girl. "Anastasia!" he called. "Hold on, I'll get you out!"

"Leave them be!" snapped the guard. "Don't make me use force!"

The third class passengers were rattling on the gate has hard as they could. Will could see the lock on it. If he could only find something strong enough to break it… there! An axe was hung on the wall for emergencies. Probably for a fire, but this certainly fit the bill.

"Look out!" the guard shouted to his colleges as Will ran madly towards the gate, axe at hand.

"Stand back!" William shouted, striking at the lock as hard as he could. One swing…two…three… the lock was broken! The third class passengers streamed out, nearly knocking him to the ground.

"Anastasia!" he shouted. There! He ran to her and threw his arms around her.

"William, we need to get to the deck," said Anastasia. "Something happened!"

"We've hit an iceberg," he said. "The _Titanic_ will soon be at the bottom of the ocean. We must go while there are still lifeboats empty."

* * *

Pandemonium had struck on the deck. Families sobbed. Children clung to their parents. People screamed. Officers called out to one another.

_So that's what happened, _thought Cruella, noting the large pieces of ice littering the area. Curses. Looks like she'd profit less from the trip than she had anticipated…

"You're next Mrs. Vanderplank. Quickly now!"

…Or not. Mrs. Vanderplank was now seated safely in the lifeboat with her two children and _her box of jewels_! And there was still room in that particular lifeboat. How convenient!

Cruella carefully wedged her way forward until she was towards the front of the crowd. The officer in charge of loading passengers was pulling all women and children within reach into the boat. Just as she had hoped, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her in. She grinned wickedly in the dark. Perfect.

* * *

"Ma'am please, get in the boat!" said one of the officers urgently.

Winnie shook her head. "I'll get in the next one," she said stubbornly, holding tightly onto Jeremy's arm.

"Winnie no! Don't sacrifice yourself for me!" the banker cried out. "I…I'm a failure Winnie. I can't offer you any future - if there will be a future. My bank's failed and I was going abroad to find someone to bail me out!"

"I'm no better off than you are," said Winifred sadly. "I set my trap and caught you, sure enough. And once I had you, I was happier than I'd ever been in my life." She paused and closed her eyes, as if to hold back tears. "Now I've got nothing, not even Flopsy. So now, you're it!"

"Winnie…" said Jeremy weakly. The two leaned forward and held each other tightly.

* * *

"Mummy!" wailed Hortense. "I forgot my jewels! Let me go and get them!"

"No time," said her mother sternly. "Get in the lifeboat. Now!"

* * *

"I told you something was going on up here!" said Horace.

The two thieves had been rummaging through all the first-class rooms still open. After finding a box of jewelry though, even they had started to suspect that something was terribly wrong. It really was hard to miss all of the water building up on the floor. So, prize at hand, they opted to ignore Cruella's instructions and escape to the deck.

"I wish we didn't have to wear these disguises though," Horace continued. "I feel like a fool."

"Don't complain," said Jasper. The two of them were wrapped in bed sheets stolen from the closest room. "You know full well it's women and children first. If we don't wear this, we very well might not make it."

"There's something wrong with disguising myself as a lady, that's all I'm saying," Horace grumbled as they pushed their way to the nearest lifeboat.

* * *

"Does that lifeboat have a steersman?" asked First Officer William Murdoch. "We need a steersman for this lifeboat!"

"Excuse me," came an annoying familiar voice. "I believe I may be of some assistance, yes?"

It was the Frenchman. Murdoch tried not to groan. "Are you a steersman?" he asked as patiently as he could.

"I am a yachtsman!" insisted the Frenchman.

Murdoch doubted this very much, but there wasn't much left to be done. "Get in," he growled, pushing the Frenchman towards the lifeboat. "Who's next?" he called to the crowd in general.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the musicians setting up their stands and instruments. For a moment, he wondered what they were doing. Then he realized: It looked almost certain that they would not survive. They were planning to go down with the ship, playing their swan songs.

"Alright boys, let's play the one from lunch today." Murdoch gasped and turned. Yes, it was Molly, waiting with the musicians.

"Molly! What on earth are you doing?" called Murdoch, making his way to her. "You need to get in a lifeboat quickly! They're filling up!"

"No," she said and her eyes seemed to flash. "I know I'm not going to make it sir. You said so yourself: The boats are filling quickly."

"But you have to try," he insisted.

"No," she repeated. "This was my best performance ever, singing on the _Titanic_. If I must die, I will do it with my final song."

He looked at her pretty face, strong and determined, and knew she would not change her mind. "Very well then," he conceded. "Sing Molly, sing while I get the other passengers to safety. I want your beautiful voice in my ears before they fill with water."

* * *

"William hurry! We must get a lifeboat," cried Anastasia. She was holding William's arm with one hand and carrying Ernest with the other. Victoria followed behind, leading Catherine.

"Hurry you lot. Get in!" called the Second Officer, Charles Lightoller. He waited as the grandchildren, Victoria, and Anastasia stepped in, but stopped William. "Women and children first sir," he said.

"No!" cried Anastasia.

"I'll wait," said William.

"I won't leave without you," she insisted.

"Go on," he said gently. "I'll find you again. I promise"

* * *

"You're next ma'am, please get in the boat," said the Second Officer.

"Not another ship in sight," murmured Nanny as she allowed herself to be led onto the lifeboat. She had gone straight up to the deck after William had gone off. She hadn't seen him since. Where could he have gone?

* * *

In the water, the cast off lifeboats floated in the freezing water. On their crates, the animals watched and wept. The pets mourned for their owners, not knowing if they lived or died. The owners mourned for their pets, with no idea where they were or if they would have any chance of escape.

The last lifeboat had been launched. The lucky few passengers to be on board watched from the ocean. The lights on the ship of dreams flickered and then went out. As she filled with water, she began to sink nose first into the endless sea. In a short while, the _RMS Titanic_ would be at the bottom of the ocean, with all those still on board.


	9. Chapter 9

It was midnight, though none of the passengers knew this. The _Titanic_ was sinking. She had been sinking for the past hour. That was the worst. If any of the passengers had imagined a ship sinking before, they imagined it quickly slipping beneath the waves and out of sight. And that would most likely have been true, for a small ship. For one as large as the _Titanic_ though, there were many more rooms and much more space to fill up with water before she would go under. And that was why it was the worst. On the ship, the passengers unable to escape waiting, counting the minutes until they would hit the water and die. But it was the passengers in the lifeboats who were forced to watch. That was their agony. They couldn't possibly leave. There was nowhere to go. They all spent that hour and all the time after watching the magnificent ship sink, hearing the screams of the passengers still on board, and unable to do a thing to prevent it.

"It's freezing," murmured Horace.

"I bet you're glad we took the sheets _now_, eh?" hissed Jasper. He was feeling in slightly better spirits. His plan went off without a hitch, they were safely inside of Lifeboat 6 - without Cruella no less, and had a box of jewels with them. "When we sell these once we get on shore, we can get on with our life. No more dealing with that shrew." He smirked and nudged the jewel box with his hand.

This bumped the box up against the girl sitting next to him. She looked up with a start and turned to see what touched her. She looked ready to scream at him at first, then noticed the box. "My jewels!" she cried.

Her jewels? Horace and Jasper looked at each other in horror. Of all the lifeboats, they snuck into the one that had the owner of the stolen jewels in it."Are you quite sure miss?" asked Jasper. "It is quite dark and…er…"

"Of course it is!" she insisted. "And that must mean…"

Oh dear lord…

"You saved them for me!"

"Wah?" gasped Jasper, but he wasn't heard. A second later, the girl leaned forward and threw her arms around him. Jasper was quite surprised, but she did have nice dark hair - even if she did have a face like a horse - and had to have been quite well-to-do to have jewels like that.

Across from him, Horace noticed another, much plumper, girl shivering. He listened to her teeth chatter for a minute before he took pity. "Here you go," he sighed, handing over his sheet.

Her eyes lit up. "Oh thank you, thank you!" she cried, taking it.

"Thank you very much!" echoed the dark-haired girl, still clinging to Jasper.

"Girls…" muttered a woman (their mother? Were they sisters?) faintly. But the girls ignored her. The fatter girl moved to sit next to Horace and they shared the blanket. The two con men smiled at each other. Things really _were_ turning out for the better!

* * *

Anastasia would have cried, but the freezing air left her skin numb and took all of the water from her eyes. To her left sat Victoria, Catherine and Ernest huddled close. Across from her, a woman looked out across the ocean, fear in her eyes.

"Keep rowing!" called Second Officer Charles Lightoller. Anastasia looked up with a start. She and several other people on the lifeboat were assigned to row the boat from the sinking ship. They were told that if they were too close, they would be pulled under with it. They would go back to search for survivors after she went down.

In the distance, all that was visible was the lights shining from the _Titanic. _As the ship began to sink lower and lower, the lights flickered and went out. Anastasia knew that somewhere on there, William was trapped. The only thing that kept her from total despair was the thought that if he survived the sinking and made it to the water, they could still save him in time. But the hope was a small one. Throughout her entire life, Anastasia had relied on her hopes to keep her going, to stay above the water. And now, when she needed them most, they abandoned her. She was in a lifeboat, but drowning like the rest. Drowning in her own sorrow and fear.

* * *

He knew he didn't have long. Like most of the other passengers still on board the _Titanic_, Will was trapped at the base of the Grand Staircase. The doors were clogged or locked and the air was full of the screams of others. William closed his eyes. Suppose this the end? After all of this, he would die this way. Before he built a single building. Without even saying goodbye to Nanny. And Anastasia…

His eyes snapped open. How could he have forgotten? He made a promise to her. _Anastasia, I'm sorry my love. How could I have been so stupid. I never will let my despair overcome my love for you_.

He had to get out. Perhaps it was only his imagination, but the floor almost seemed to be tipping sideways. From what Will could gather, the Titanic would go down bow-first. When the water surrounded the room, the glass dome covering the Grand Staircase would shatter and everyone inside would drown. If he wanted a chance to escape, he needed to find a way to get onto the deck. His eyes fell on an unprotected window. Perfect…

He raced towards it, grabbing a chair along the way. Without pausing, he swung the chair over his head and smashed it against the glass. It cracked and he swung the chair again. With a satisfying crash, the window broke open and he dove through, followed by the other passengers, equally desperate for survival.

* * *

"I'm scared," whimpered Ernest. "How much longer will we be out here?"

"Shh, not much longer I'm sure," said Victoria, as soothingly as she could.

"Granny, I'm cold," whispered Catherine, shivering in her thin dress. Anastasia gently put her arms around the girl and held her. She felt the locket slip out from under her life jacket and swing freely, illuminated eerily in the moonlight. And, almost inaudibly, she thought she heard the woman sitting across from her gasp.

"Thank you Anastasia," said Catherine.

"Anastasia?" the woman asked weakly. "That's your name?"

"Hmm? Yes it is," she said. Why was this woman so stricken by this?

"And that locket," continued the woman. "Have you…owned that for long?"

"My entire life," said Anastasia. She took it in her hand and opened it once more. "There's a picture of my mother in there, I think she gave it to me when she gave me up as a baby…"

"Gave you up because she had no choice," murmured the woman.

Anastasia's eyes snapped up. In that simple sentence, a thought crossed her mind. But it couldn't be…it was impossible…She looked at the familiar picture, the one she had looked at so many times before. Then she looked up at the woman sitting not a foot away in front of her. The woman looked older. Her face was lined and she looked quite sad. And now she looked quite shocked. But the shape of her mouth…and those beautiful kind eyes… "Mother…?" whispered Anastasia, hardly daring to believe it.

"It was so many years," the woman said. She looked as if she were about to cry. "I never gave up hope. But to think it would be here and now, like this…"

"Mummy!" cried Anastasia, throwing herself forward into the woman's arms. "It's you, it's really you!"

"My baby! My precious baby," sobbed her mother. "It was so long ago, times were so hard. There was the consumption and your poor father…we had so little anyway and with him gone I couldn't raise you. But I couldn't leave you! Then I met Gertrude. She seemed so kind, so sympathetic. She said she would look after you, raise you while I found work until my fortunes improved. That I could take you back at any time. She asked that I pay her a small amount and I happily agreed. But then there were hard times, and I missed one of the payments. And…and she disappeared. No way to find her. I tried. I tried so hard. And I never gave up."

"I knew you wouldn't abandon me," said Anastasia. "I never gave up either." And she finally began to cry herself. The two clung to each other, mother and daughter, sobbing from so many years of heartbreak.

* * *

The deck was unmistakably tilting by now. The bow was going under and somewhere in his mind, Will found himself thinking _this is it!_ And he also heard a small voice reminding him that he had to keep his wits about him. Everywhere, the ship was cracking, breaking, and flooding. At any moment, he could be crushed or killed by the falling debris. But it was complete reaction which urged him to race up towards the stern as the ship slowly moved into a vertical position. He knew that if he could grab the handrail along the back of the stern, he could keep himself out of the water until the very last minute. And it also looked as if he wasn't the only person to have this idea. All around him, passengers raced towards the rising side of the _Titanic_ and there was already a large crowd of people who were clinging to the backmost railings. Will ran as fast as he could. But he was not quite fast enough.

The deck was now at such a sharp slant that it was nearly like running up the side of a wall. William's feet slipped and lost contact with the wood. His hand shot out, scrambling to take hold of whatever was closest, and his fingers locked around a rope dangling near him. He clung to it with his left hand, praying with all of his might that the other end was actually tied to something. The rope held steady though, and kept him high and dry.

William later reflected on how fortunate he was. It was only because of his reflexes that he survived. All around him, he saw passengers who never made it to the handrails. Passengers who, like him, were unable to move forward and fell off of the deck and into the dark waters below. Will closed his eyes. He couldn't help them, but if he watched he knew he'd be tempted to.

But he couldn't ignore the screams of a young child he heard a second later. His eyes snapped open as he saw a boy falling towards him. He was fairly certain the boy wasn't in the crowd racing for the handrails. The back half of the ship was almost completely vertical now and passengers clinging to the metal bars were losing their grips as well. The boy must have fallen from there. Without thinking, Will reached his free right arm out and grabbed the child falling past him. He wrapped his arm around the boy's waist, grimacing from the pain of the impact.

But now he had more weight to contend with and his left hand was giving out. The rope cut into William's palm and burned as he felt himself slowly losing his own grip. He tried to get a better hold and felt the rope slip from his grasp…

Even then, William was unusually lucky. He had held out past the worst of it for the back half of the ship. When he lost his hold on the rope, the stern was slowly lowering itself back towards the water, the weight too much to be kept in the air for so long. It wasn't lowered much. But it was enough. Enough for William, still holding the child, to slide down the deck rather than free fall.

Even so, he knew that if they did not slow down, they would be in trouble when they ran into whatever came in their path first. His left hand still stung and burned, but he reached out for the closest handrail as he sped past. His fingers brushed one, then grabbed the next. Will gave a scream of pain as he felt as if his arm was going to be pulled out of the socket. With the built up momentum, he and the child were swung sideways, through the handrails. His sweaty fingers once more lost their hold on the handrail and the two went plunging into the ocean.

* * *

"Can you hear that?" called a rower on Lifeboat 3.

"Do you mean anything specifically?" Fifth Officer Harold Lowe shouted back. He knew sarcasm wasn't the best thing at the moment. They were all cold and alone and scared. But it was the best way he could deal with everything. Besides, the question _was_ a bit silly. The air was thick with sounds: The ship breaking to pieces, splashing as things and people fell in the water, and the cries of passengers.

"There's someone close by calling for help," the rower replied.

Lowe listened as best he could. By God, there _was_ someone very close.

"Someone please!" the voice shouted desperately, shaking with the cold. "Help! There's a child here!"

"Officer, what do we do?" one of the passengers on the lifeboat asked anxiously.

"Move towards the voice," said Lowe, thinking quickly. "If we move fast enough, we can rescue whoever it is before the ship sinks"

They found the shouter clinging to a crate, floating in the ocean. Sure enough, he was desperately holding onto a young boy.

"Steady…steady…" called the Fifth Officer as the lifeboat drew nearer. The young man could see them now and handed them the child just as soon as they were close enough. Then he moved to climb in as well.

Then Lowe heard a cracking above all the rest. He looked at the _Titanic_ and knew what was happening. She was breaking in two. The stern was going to break off and fall into the water. When that went down, it could tip the boat over or suck them under as well. With much regret he gave the order: "Turn around. Get us away from here!"

"What about him? We can't leave him too!" shouted one of the passengers.

"We have to! If we stay, we might all be drowned!" snapped Lowe. He hated it just as much as they did! _God forgive me…_ he thought as they sailed away.

* * *

There had been a deafening crash as the back half of the _Titanic_ broke and fell to the water and then there was another agonizing wait as that filled with water and sank out of sight. It was only then, when the last of the ship was under, that the lifeboats dared to return to look for survivors.

"Can you see him mother?" asked Anastasia anxiously.

"Not yet darling," Nanny murmured. "Don't worry, we'll find him alright. Just you wait and see." It was the first time Anastasia had someone to reassure her like that and it lightened her heart. She tried to ignore the fear in her mother's eyes or the way she bit her lip. The two were frightened, but knew it would do little good.

"Keep rowing," warned the Second Officer. "And stay steady."

"Look! There's someone in the water!" shouted Victoria.

Sure enough, there was a body clinging to a piece of floating debris. The person was still and either dead or unconscious. As the lifeboat drew nearer, Anastasia saw that the form was a man with blonde hair. Could it be…?

When the boat was close enough, the passengers gently reached out and pulled the man on board. They turned him over to find…nothing. He was older than William and had a dark moustache, which contrasted strikingly with his hair.

"It's not him," sighed Anastasia.

At the sound of her voice, the man began to sputter, coughing up water. He sat up halfway weakly. "Who's there?" he asked drunkenly.

"You're on Lifeboat 4," said Lightoller. "Don't worry, you're safe now sir."

"Ah," said the man. "You can call me Detective Sam Bradbury. Sam to my friends, a threat to my…oh never mind…"

"Look Grandma, his moustache is falling off," said Ernest.

"Issa disguise…Sam mumbled as his eyes slowly closed. "I'm undercover…"

"Keep him warm," warned Lightoller as the detective began to fall asleep. "Keep him awake too. Slap him if you must. In this cold, if any of us falls asleep we might not wake up again."

"Look! There's something else out there!" shouted Catherine, pointing to a crate not a foot away.

"Oh yes," Sam slurred as they drew near. "Must have been where that fellow was. That fellow who was…a fellow…"

"Who? What did he look like?" asked Anastasia urgently.

"Like a…fellow…" muttered Sam. "Yellow hair, yep…"

Anastasia didn't dare breath. "Could it be him?"

"Just you relax Miss, I'll see for you," muttered Sam, and before anyone could say another word he lurched over the edge of the boat to grab at the body in the water.

"Steady! Steady!" shouted the Second Officer as the lifeboat rocked alarmingly.

"Don't worry, I got him," said Sam, as the other passengers held the detective steady. "I've got - AH!" he screamed. The form had given some sort of a spasm and grabbed him by the hair. In a panic, the passengers pulled Sam back into the lifeboat.

"Grandma, his hair came off!" laughed Ernest.

"My toupee…" the detective muttered desolately.

Anastasia, Nanny, and several other passengers had meanwhile been pulling the body into the lifeboat as well. They laid him on his back to find…

"William!" cried Anastasia. "It _is_ William! Oh darling, it's me, Anastasia!"

But William did not move or show any signs of awakening. Nanny gave a sob. Second Officer Lightoller leaned forward, put his fingers to Will's neck, and sighed a moment later. "He's alive. But only just. We need to keep him warm until help arrives. Then maybe, _maybe_, he might survive."

* * *

The survivors were adrift at sea for hours. There was the occasional burst of light as a flare went off, however for the most part they were separated in the darkness. No one knew who lived or survived. In the back of her mind, Anastasia wondered of the fate of her foster family, Gertrude, Hortense, and Bernice Tremaine, and their fat cat Geoffrey. But she spared little worry for the cold family who never gave her more than a passing thought. Perhaps she would mourn later. But at that time, Anastasia's sole concern was William, keeping him warm and waiting for him to wake up. She was squeezed up next to him, her mother wedged on the other side, both of them with their arms around him. She felt the cold air bite her face and hands and knew it couldn't go on forever. It would have to end, one way or another.

It was nearly dawn. The black velvet sky was now tinged the slightest bit with oranges as the sun was rising. The survivors of the _Titanic_ watched in wonder. It was a miracle which occurred daily, but a miracle nonetheless. And they needed a miracle now, more than ever.

As Anastasia stared with the rest, she heard a groan. She looked down quickly and gasped. William was opening his eyes! "William, my love!" she cried.

"Oh William!" sobbed her mother.

Will looked up weakly, staring into both of their faces. He smiled. Then he locked eyes with Anastasia. "Hello," he whispered. "I told you I'd find you again. I'm sorry I took so long…"

"I could have waited forever," said Anastasia. She leaned down and kissed him, her hands in his. They kissed for a long time, as the sun rose and the cold waters were warmed in a beautiful burst of light.

* * *

_Wait a minute! Wait a minute! The story's not over! Don't you want to find out what happens to everyone? Stick around for the very end! And review while you're at it _^_^


	10. Chapter 10

After that, there was nothing left for the survivors to do but wait. In the lifeboats and on the crates, they shivered and watched for any sign of rescue. A ship to save them, to reunite them so that they might find solace at long last.

It was shortly after dawn when the flares' efforts were made apparent. The RMS _Carpathia_ arrived in time. All of the passengers were taken on board. All the passengers who were left. Likewise, the crates of animals were spotted and hauled up. In the time that followed, changes of all kinds occurred. For the better or for the worse, none of the passengers' lives were the same.

* * *

Cruella boarded the _Carpathia_ planning only to snatch the Vanderplank jewels and make a run for it as soon as they reached shore. She had no idea of Jasper or Horace were still alive and frankly, she didn't care. There were plenty of other idiots she could train to take their places.

Her plot very well might have worked, if it wasn't for the combined efforts of Fritz and Flopsy, the latter of whom recognized the thief's scent from Jasper and Horace and wanted a bit of revenge for his mistress. The two dogs bit her on each ankle as she tried to sneak off with the jewel box, causing her to scream with pain and fall to the ground.

Even then, she very well might have escaped. But Detective Sam Bradbury was not so out-of-it by then and recognized her as the famous jewel thief he had been pursuing for all those years. Helping his case was the fact that when she fell, Cruella dropped the box, scattering the stolen jewels all over the deck. She was quickly arrested and stood trial as soon as they reached dry land. Details of the trial were confusing and she alternately blamed everything on her two "fools of assistants" (whom never were found) and wailed for her "beloved baby, Tiger!" In any case, it was clear she would be locked up for quite some time.

* * *

Sam Bradbury was promoted and awarded a medal for the capture and arrest of Cruella. He became a bit of a legend after that - both for the arrest and surviving the sinking of the _Titanic_ - and was met by many fans who enjoyed his stories and his company, helped by the fact that he quit smoking his pipe. He felt nervous with nothing in his mouth, but it was something he vowed to do if he ever caught Cruella.

Flopsy and Fritz were taken in by Bradbury and trained to be police dogs. They performed with great skill, although it was some time before either would go near any water.

* * *

Hortense and Bernice married Jasper and Horace, against their mother's wishes. The two con men were happy with the rich - if obnoxious - girls and they'd saved up enough money from various heists to appear rich enough for approval. Strangely enough though, the brides didn't seem to care about the money so much. Perhaps the voyage taught them the value of love over material wealth. Or it taught them to be better actors. Jasper and Horace didn't care. As nasty as their wives could be, at least they were better-tempered than Cruella had ever been. Lady Tremaine dealt with the marriage as best she could. None of the family ever spoke of, or tried to contact, Anastasia and if they thought she had died that fateful night, none of them gave any signs of regret.

Azreal remained with the Tremaine family and was joined by Tiger, who agreed to stay in the household only because he felt it was the most dignified abode he could find for one of his pedigree. He was given Geoffrey's spare bed to sleep in, which he obstinately referred to as "Chateau Chihuahua".

* * *

Gaston never saw William again. While on the _Carpathia_, he found himself incredibly bored and therefore spent his time making faces to amuse the Vanderplank children. The children became very fond of him because of this, prompting Mrs. Vanderplank to offer him a well-paying job with the family once they returned home. Greedy as always, Gaston quickly accepted. When he reached the Vanderplank estate, he was informed of his new duties: as the children's new nanny and au pair.

* * *

The Mouskewitz family made it to America in the end. They were joined by Macintosh, who was responsible for finding their new home. He recognized the chef of the _Titanic_, who managed to survive the sinking against all odds, and helped the family follow him to the new restaurant he had set up in New York. There, they had plenty of food, a warm place to stay, and were quite safe so long as they were careful. The mice were all quite happy there, but sometimes Fivel would wonder about the kind red haired girl he met on the ship and whether she'd found her mother or not.

* * *

The Rapido Raton Band was able to make their way back to Mexico with more or less no difficulty, thanks in part to the guidance of Hector. As thanks, they allowed him to join their band, after hearing him brag how he played "wicked bongos". He lived up to his boastings and became a popular member of the band, although he did have a habit of leaving on what he called "business trips"...returning with a variety of shiny objects in his possession.

* * *

William and Anastasia were married not long after they reached America. William found work as an architect, designing new buildings, and they lived a comfortable existence with Nanny. They also were often visited by Victoria and the grandchildren, who found their family in America and were getting by quite well.

The newlyweds also adopted Pongo and Perdita, whom they met after being rescued by the _Carpathia_. Perdita had her puppies and the two were quite happy with their new family, though they still mourned the death of their beloved mistress Molly.

Though very happy, none of them ever forgot that terrible night they survived and every year, on the anniversary of the sinking, Anastasia removed her precious locket from her neck out of respect for the deceased: Molly, William Murdoch, Winnie, Jeremy McFlannel, and the hundreds of others, dead and gone, but certainly not forgotten. They were forever a part of the legacy left behind by the Ship of Dreams.

The _Titanic_ was a legend, and she would always live on.

* * *

_And now, the story really is over. Hope you enjoyed it! Here's hoping we all live happily ever after. Bye for now and see you soon! _:P


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